


Bridge Over Troubled Water

by Justanothertrashaccount



Series: Olivia Benson's Prompted One-Shot Collection [7]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Lewis, Olivia/Fin friendship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Assault, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 53,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28533078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justanothertrashaccount/pseuds/Justanothertrashaccount
Summary: Townhouse Incident with a twist. When Olivia is forced to get in the car with Joe, she is deeply traumatized by the events that occur. The squad shows unwavering support, but Rafael goes the extra mile. How will her relationship with Barba change after he takes it upon himself to take care of her injuries and help her through the recovery? Quick updates.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Series: Olivia Benson's Prompted One-Shot Collection [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046743
Comments: 104
Kudos: 110





	1. Townhouse Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Even though I love Tuckson more, I wrote this as Barson because 1) it ties into the other prompt really well so I can hit two birds with one stone and 2) there is simply more demand for Barson material (step it up, Tuckson fans!). Tried an in medias res approach, this way it just cuts right to the action. Daaaaark shiiiiit (But honestly not as dark as my in-progress Lewis or Harris fics… I’m going to hell). Although I had already done something like this already, the forced-into-the-car scene was requested, this goes into graphic detail and I figured it would be a nice bridge into the hurt/comfort prompt. Hope you like it!

**So I have always wanted a fic where Liv is forced into the car during the Townhouse Incident instead of getting the drop on him like she did. What would have happened to her once her and Joe were away from there (i think we can probably guess from what he already did) etc etc...?**

**\- Anonymous**

**A Barson prompt where Olivia gets injured, can be in the line of duty or not, you choose and there's angst at her getting hurt/putting herself in situations etc and then needing to be taken care of due to said injury. Feel free to throw plenty of smut and fluff in there once the angst is done.**

**-Millie_Morris**

* * *

The distressed ADA watched, from what he perceived to be an impossibly far distance, as Olivia and the other hostages shuffled out from the garden entrance. They huddled together – muscles contracting involuntarily out of fear and a desire to cluster closer under Olivia’s protective embrace– in a tragically poetic fashion that would make a still shot seem like a renaissance painting in which she was the focus. This observation did possess a grain of truth, of course, as the eyes of her squad rarely ceased their concerned inspection of her haggard features. 

Even though the hardened lawyer would never recover from witnessing the worst-case scenario – the hypothetical images already threatened to invade his external stoicism – Barba couldn’t pull his eyes away from Olivia. His colleague. His best friend. She was the first recipient of a joke he found funny enough to repost, she was the colleague that never failed to challenge his intellect, she was… Liv. No title was needed for their relationship, he supposed it was because neither one of them could properly define it even if some arbitrary titles were required. “Colleague” and “best friend” were technically accurate but failed to capture an unspoken and mysterious aspect of their relationship, while “lover” hit too high above the mark. At least, so far. 

Barba admonished himself for thinking about the complexities of their relationship when Olivia could be killed in a matter of moments, so he regrouped, and tried his best to listen in on Joe’s demands.

Olivia herself, however, couldn’t focus. On anything. Other than, of course, her own service weapon. The unforgiving metal of the gun, which felt cool against her neck, invited a losing battle with unwelcome flashbacks. Each breath became more ragged, every movement left her muscles visibly shaking. 

She barely remembered convincing Joe, the strung-out hostage-taker, to release the children. But she must have, or at least someone did, because soon the boy was released, and she was standing with only Tess. For all tactical intents and purposes, she was fighting alone. Alone with a rapist who was under life-and-death levels of pressure. Tess, whose legs still shook from her assault, clung to the blue-green fabric of the older woman’s shirt for dear life while Olivia’s mind went haywire in its attempts to conjure an escape plan.

_ Deep breaths. Just think. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Think! _

The soothingly agreeable voice that every hostage negotiator possessed was strongly present when she pleaded for the girl. “Whatever you want, Joe. But why don’t we let Tess go, okay? You have me.” 

“Hell. No.” He pressed the gun harder against the back of her skull, sending a message that he was fully intransigent. “I need someone to drive so that you and I can have our own little party in the backseat.” 

Her throat tightened at the implication, but there was no choice but to keep talking and try to redirect. “I’m just going to tell Tuck –” 

“Get in the fucking car!” The power of Joe’s irate voice resonated throughout his entire body, causing the gun to move ever so slightly. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough for the snipers to get a clear shot. “GET IN!” 

As an experienced NYPD Lieutenant, the direness of the situation was not lost on her. The cover of the car would reduce any sniper opportunities to almost zero, while the movement of the vehicle would further complicate any attempts to neutralize the man. “Joe, you don’t have to do this.” 

“So help me fucking God, I! Will! Kill! You!” His body shook so violently from the volume and force of his demands that even Barba – who was pushed out to the edges of the crowd since he was not NYPD – could hear them clearly. Tess pushed her head further into Olivia’s chest, cowering at the sound of her rapist’s voice. As Olivia and the girl slowly shuffled forward, Joe regrouped his thoughts and tried to remain calm so he could think clearly. “Okay. Okay. Get in the backseat. Then the girl is going to climb into the driver’s seat and follow my directions because I. Am. A. God!” 

Barba shuddered with sympathetic adrenaline that coursed through his body, while the pair took a slight step back so Olivia could open the car door. Joe, careful not to let the gun slip, climbed in after both hostages and used his free hand to shut the door. 

Joe must have understood the exigence of his situation because the car began to slowly crawl no less than a minute after their entrance into the vehicular prison. Barba, eventually snapping out of his disbelief, located the rest of the squad. They stood in somber and motionless silence, and they hated themselves for it. 

Recognizing that the terrified teenager – who was almost catatonic with fear – could be ignored momentarily, Joe kept his aim on Olivia while he tightened the new zip ties to the point where they were almost painfully restrictive. He did the same with her ankles, using a zip tie on each ankle and them binding them with another in the middle. 

After double-checking that he properly subdued his most dangerous threat, Joe refocused on commanding Tess. Olivia, unfortunately, came to the realization that she underestimated the paranoid druggie when he started to make deliberate attempts to disrupt any organized attempt to snipe him or storm the vehicle. “Turn here… speed up… slow down…turn around…” 

He also removed his jacket from underneath his bulletproof vest – he made a point of redonning the vest immediately afterward – and hung it from the handlebars on the car’s interior roof so that he could further limit visibility from the outside-in. Apparently, the tinted windows weren’t dark enough protection for his liking. 

With no more excess articles of clothing to remove and an unwillingness to risk-taking off the vest again, Joe looked for other sources to cover the backseat window on the driver’s side, which Olivia rested against. The rhythmic thumping of her head against the hard glass grounded her as she desperately warded off Lewis flashbacks. 

“Take your shirt off and hang it up on the window.” 

While keeping Lewis in mind, especially his proclivity for mood swings and the sudden mood changes from pseudo-altruistic to outright monstrous, Olivia followed the command with a blank look on her face to prevent an outburst. Her attempts at diminishing her emotional presence didn’t stop her adrenaline-fueled shaking, however. The shirt was hung with her normally nimble fingers that quaked with fear and were heavily limited in movement due to her plastic restraints. 

The attempt to remove the shirt was unsuccessful because of the zip ties, so Joe forced her to sit up so he could do it himself. The scars that littered her abdomen were usually a common cause for embarrassment, but for reasons she did not understand, she felt none. She felt vulnerable and exposed, almost weak, but not embarrassed. 

“Holy shit.” His initial shock was replaced by a nervous chuckle. “Who the hell did that to you?” 

The response to the rhetorical question was the initiation of another Lindstrom-advised breathing exercise, as the previous one wasn’t working. Olivia was finally beginning to understand why some vics saw their marring wounds as “battle scars”. 

Her thoughts became defiant.  _ He did not break me, and neither will you. _

The chill of the air on her exposed abdomen – the cold was intensified by the sweat of intense adrenaline – caused her to instinctively cross her arms over her body. This, unfortunately, drew attention to her semi-uncovered breasts. 

“How about we settle in for a little show, huh?” Joe reached out to grope her over her bra, which elicited Olivia’s reflex to pull away. Her shoulder made contact with the cold window and she shuddered – a combination of the frigid contact and Joe’s touch. His reaction to the repulsive look she gave him was predictably not calm. She did not, however, expect him to subconsciously puff his chest as if her reaction was a challenge. 

Joe’s arms made a wide arc to circumvent the bulge of his vest and his hands reached for his belt. “Take it off.” 

Tess fearfully and knowingly glanced at the older woman through the rearview mirror as the car continued its trudging along at a medium-fast pace. Olivia didn’t notice, however. Her mind was too clouded with panic. “What?” The word came out much more meekly than she would have liked. 

“Take. It. Off.” He reached for her once more, but Olivia turned away again. The mixture of fear, confusion, and denial about what was about to happen created a disastrous mix in a time where she knew she needed to either fight like hell or stay calm. She pulled at her bindings with no success, which indicated that resisting wasn’t really an option. 

Olivia Benson, however, was never one to back down. She shook her body, she twisted and jolted, because her years at SVU told her that a rapist would often move on if their potential victim gave them too much trouble. Luckily, Tess was relatively safe as the driver because Joe couldn’t physically assault her without disrupting the movement of the car, so Olivia was free to resist without fears of him hurting the teenager. 

The anger and frustration emanating from the man were almost tangible. The drugs and the immense pressure from the NYPD worked together to fuel his desire for a release of some sort, and he finished unfastening his belt and loosening his pants just enough for his covered member to be free. 

Tired of her frantic rustling, Joe impulsively tore down the blouse that formerly covered the window, and instead put the collar up to Olivia’s chin while he tied the sleeves together behind the headrest. The binding fabric was so tight that her survival instinct to focus on inhalation overcame her other instincts to resist – her body went slack as she tried to breathe. 

The tied hands weakly tried to untie the knot flutily while Joe pushed down her pants to her ankles and forced her legs up so that he could have access without having to untie her bound feet. Oxygen was precious and hard to come by, so her body involuntarily refused to let her waste any energy especially when the outcome was guaranteed to be grim. 

The status of her pants – they were bunched around her ankles because 1) they were characteristically tight and 2) the zip ties prevented their full removal – required that Joe force her legs closer into her chest so that he could access her most sensitive flesh. 

He wasted no time in drawing anything out or making it about her – as Lewis surely would have – and Olivia was torn about what to think about his hurry. On one hand, it would be over quickly. However, his rush meant that the assault would occur in the next couple of seconds. 

There was one thought that Olivia clung to for sanity, despite her physical position.  _ I will not stop fighting _ . 

She didn’t stop fighting when he hooked his thumb around her panties to move them aside as his hands rested on her inner thigh. She didn’t stop fighting when he freed his erection from its confines and pumped it to its full hardness. And she certainly didn’t stop fighting when he aligned himself and pushed into her, bottoming out on the first stroke. 

She did, however, cry. Not a wild cry that turned one’s face red – that required being able to breathe frequently and was being performed by Tess as the young girl heard what was happening– but rather the heartbreaking type where red-hot tears streamed down her cheeks slowly as she frantically struggled and rustled her body in defiance. Olivia made no attempt to stop these tears, they were byproducts of her shame. And pain. God, the pain. The flesh near her entrance felt like an elastic band about to snap. Olivia had faced much more torturous agony no more than 2 years ago, but she had never experienced any serious pain of this nature before. 

She heard a stifled moan, but she couldn’t definitively identify whether it was from the wailing teenager or of her own making. Joe didn’t make eye contact – she thought that he perhaps possessed a grain of guilt – and instead watched himself move inside her. The SVU detective of 17 years couldn’t bear to move her eyes from the roof of the car, anyway. 

The movement of her legs – trying to close and push him off her – and the twiddling of her hands – trying to untie the choking shirt – were beginning to catch up with her. Whether it was the sheer panic or Joe’s thrusting actions that had the same effect as knocking the wind out of her, Olivia struggled to draw in any air. 

_ I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe… I. Can’t. Breathe!  _

The edges of her vision were invaded by a dark-gray fuzziness that blurred anything in the periphery. The closing darkness consumed the rest of her sight, and Olivia felt her chest stop moving as she lost consciousness. 


	2. The Hospital Part 1 of 2: The Waiting Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is part one of two hospital scenes, the next one will be Barba and Carisi talking to Olivia. This chapter explores the squad's thoughts about the day's events, especially their concern and curiosity. Next chapter coming out in the next couple of hours!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve decided to try out another style this time, revealing the resolution through the internal thoughts of most squad members as they waited. I’ve only decided to do it this way because I felt like it would be more puzzle-like, scattered and choppy like their thoughts, and more tense. Let me know what you thought of it, comment if you think it’s too messy! I tried to change the style a little to coincide with each specific character’s thoughts and some sentences in the beginning are short on purpose. Lots of new things today. And of course, lots of Barson content! Thanks for the suggestions (some of which are in the next chapter)!

The rest of the squad understood why the lawyer kept pacing the perimeter of the private waiting area that was really a conference room, but it started to grow annoying rather quickly. They were each frustrated and paranoid as the facts of the situation became tinted with horrifying possibilities as it was replayed in their heads. Regardless, no one said a thing. Not to each other, and especially not to Barba. 

Barba was angry. He was seething with pent-up vexation, as it is rather hard to quell a possessive fire in one’s heart when the person you want to protect is not allowed to have visitors right now. He wanted to be with her. To control the situation, to decide who can have contact with her at such a sensitive time. Instead, he was wearing down the carpet with his livid tread while the seated detectives thought in silence. An irate warmth grew in his chest, aching to satisfy that caveman instinct to punch something. To hurt the one that hurt Olivia. But Joe was already in the ICU, so he just snapped at the inquisitive beat cops instead. Even worse, he wasn’t one of the immediate responders to the second scene like Fin or Carisi or Dodds, so he had almost no information other than uneducated inferences. Dodds had a change of clothes, suggesting that the Sergeant’s previous outfit was stained with blood. Was it Olivia’s or Joe’s? The question haunted him and fueled his pointless anger simultaneously, so instead, the hardened lawyer mentally repeated the few facts he did know until he couldn’t think straight. 

_They used road spikes. They found her alive. There was a gunshot. Tess was escorted away, uninjured. Olivia was taken into an ambulance._

That was the full extent of his knowledge, and it drove him mad. 

Fin, however, was in total shock. Everything escalated too quickly, and now that it was over, he had the chance to evaluate just how suddenly it all occurred. Olivia was safe, then she wasn’t. Joe was in the townhouse, then he wasn’t. It progressed so quickly that nobody had the time to process any of it. At least with Harris, the whole squad knew of the risks Olivia was willingly undertaking days before she stepped foot in the prison, even if only very few knew the traumatic results. They had time to understand the risk. With Lewis, threats were made, and a sense of anticipation and failure fell on the squad like a hailstorm even before the abduction. They had time to feel the danger. With Utley… Utley was different. They didn’t have time to wrap their heads around any of it. He wasn’t a sadistic psychopath like Lewis or had an unspecified amount of private time with Olivia as Harris did – and thank god for that – but any fool knows that drugs, paranoia, and pressure are an explosive mix. Neither Fin nor the rest of the squad was informed about what had occurred within the townhouse or the car– in fact, they knew very little – but the abruptness of the whole ordeal hit him like a shockwave. 

Carisi had too many questions, and his fidgety restlessness came from the overwhelming concern he had for Olivia. She was his boss, friend, and the only adequate mother-like figure in his life now. She guided him through the murky waters of SVU like a torch in the night, lectured him gently when he made rookie mistakes and gave him a bear hug when he aced his civil torts final. The young man was absolutely not prepared to help the medics untie the blue-ish shirt that was choking his Lieutenant, although he purposely rushed to the scene before anyone unfamiliar jostled her into the ambulance. She was clothed, sans shirt, which was a good sign. But was it possible that Joe rap–… assaulted her… and then reclothed her to avoid an additional charge? Carisi refused to use the “r-word” and winced at the thought. Luckily, he doubted that Joe had the time or presence of mind to do that but being _almost_ sure was not comforting. Like Fin, he thought the suddenness of it all stung as well. The detective was sitting at his desk no less than 3 hours ago, Lieu perfectly healthy and safe, and now what? What had happened? Or more importantly, what happens now? There were no answers. 

Rollins was sitting at home, still on partially forced maternity leave, when Carisi informed her of the situation. No concrete news. The nervous young man gave no indication that there was any sexual assault, but the young detective still knew that Olivia would be shaken even if she didn’t show it. Their relationship had been rocky, to say the least, but at the end of the day, both women knew they had each other’s back. Olivia fought like hell for Amanda in the past – even forgiving career-ending mistakes – and the younger detective had every intention of returning the favor. Amanda promised herself that she would try to talk to proud Lieutenant, knowing the power of a supportive friend, but also knew that such a sensitive conversation would have to wait until later. Until it sunk in. She also made a mental note to talk to Carisi himself, as being one of the first officers to arrive at the scene was surely traumatic for him. 

Dodds was swimming through memories. The sergeant was covered in blood no less than 20 minutes ago. Joe’s blood… or was some of it Olivia’s? He didn’t know. The gunshot wound in that scum’s stomach glared at him through memory like it was the sun. The young man took comfort in that the more he thought about it because that way at least most of the blood was Joe’s. Dodds didn’t see any immediate wounds on his superior, but he didn’t really get a close look as he was helping the paramedics board Joe into the ambulance, either. Rationally, he knew that helping the injured man get medical care was almost an automatic reflex at this point – and they required by law to help injured suspects so it wasn’t really a choice– but if he had more time to think about it, Dodd’s wasn’t sure he’d make the same decision if he could go back and do it again. The drugged-out man was in surgery, anyway. The Sergeant and his father both hoped that the son of a bitch would just die and save them all the trouble, but his father’s statement had a much more self-serving connotation rather than true concern for the woman. 

William Dodds was almost annoyingly calculating, living alone in the reality that Joe just created and urging others to end their disbelieving shock and join him, but the squad wasn’t ready to move on to the next phase quite yet. Not even Barba was thinking specifics about the next legal steps right now, although the ADA was hellbent on prosecuting everybody involved. 

* * *

Olivia's first thought after regaining consciousness wasn’t really a thought. Just a general sense of confusion. The light was blinding, and Olivia’s eyes did that weird thing where they contract involuntarily due to a mixture of the bright white light and the exhausting fatigue. 

The second thing she felt was the stickiness of her face. It wasn’t warm, or cold, but thin and stiff. Suddenly, the events of the previous couple of hours invaded her brain like water flowing through a groove. Ignorance was bliss, and she missed it. Olivia reached up with her right hand to scratch at the mystery substance and prayed to God it wasn’t his… fluids. After she inspected the flakes that had chipped off under her fingernail, relief washed over her as it became obvious that it was dark red blood. Her body collapsed back on the light blue sheets with exhaustion. Even sitting up induced a sharp sense of fatigue. 

She drifted off into unconsciousness once more. 

* * *

Dr. James Cameron was tired, hungry, and overwhelmingly curious. He recognized Olivia Benson from two years ago, although only through the news reports, but promised himself to not display any knowledge of the previous events or pity. The man was semi-experienced in dealing with sexual assault patients, enough to know what to do but not enough to call himself an expert. Luckily, he was literally dealing with the experts of sex crimes. 

As his white coat swayed into the closed conference room – no, the waiting room – all eyes immediately darted towards him like moths to a flame. They scanned his features for signs of hope, or distress, and awaited his information with heavy anticipation. 

Despite one man’s pleas – that quickly turned into the demands that matched his irate posture – Dr. Cameron was unable to disclose any information except to immediate family. Luckily, Olivia had wisely categorized Fin under the “siblings” category years ago, which she felt only marginally fudged the truth. 

Dr. Cameron took him aside, farther than normal because of all the inquisitive eyes and listening ears as he explained her physical state. Olivia had bruises and two cuts on her face which required stitches, bruises elsewhere on her body, and a mild concussion. The most concerning injuries were her broken wrist and 3 fractured ribs.

“Can we visit her?” 

“Yes.” The doctor formed a small comforting smile, matching Fin’s relieved grin. “But only 2 at a time. I’ve convinced the shift nurse to allow for an overnight visitor, but only one.” 

“That’ll be me.” He stated it rather proudly, as both he and Olivia were well aware that he never failed to be there for her. 

Dr. Cameron gave him another reassuring smile. “I’ll let them know that you’re cleared to stay.” 

Fin, despite his relief that there was no long-term physical damage and that he would be there to comfort her, was still concerned about her emotional health. “Was she… uh… assaulted?” 

The soft-spoken doctor understood the sensitivity of the situation and proceeded to talk slowly in comforting tones. “Unfortunately, the patient did not let us perform any genital examination and we barely managed to convince her to remove her pants without a sedative, so it is possible that she was raped. However, we didn’t find any traces of visible body fluids on her clothing. Sexual assault, and especially privacy, is taken very seriously around here, so if there is a rape kit your precinct will be the first to know about it.” 

Fin was grateful for her relative health after such a dangerous incident but was weighed down by the possibility that she was assaulted. Again. 

Dr. Cameron’s pager interrupted the somber moment with its obnoxiously loud beeping, and the man quickly rushed off to tend to an emergency, leaving Fin’s curiosity not entirely resolved. 

He rejoined the rest of the group and informed them of her physical injuries but neglected to mention the second half of their very brief conversation. Nevertheless, the other members of the squad still wondered about the very same topic. 

Rafael was visibly relieved that she didn’t have any life-threatening injuries, although she would have trouble with her wrist and ribs. He was, however, frustrated that Fin had claimed the overnight privileges before he could, but understood the detective’s importance to Olivia. 

Fin briefly departed for both his and Olivia’s apartment to pack overnight bags for both of them, his car exiting the parking garage at a barely-legal speed. 

* * *

Rafael elected himself as the first visitor, to no one's surprise. In fact, Carisi and Dodds shot each other knowing looks as he shot up from his seat upon hearing the news, which provided a brief break from the suffocating apprehension that was only somewhat diminished by the previous news. 

The lawyer was uncharacteristically nervous as he started to transverse and attempt to navigate the white hallways. His anger was only partially abated, but he pushed it down as not to scare Olivia. His Olivia. Except she wasn't really his. Not yet, anyway. He knew better than to think that this was the time or place to examine the subtle intricacies of their undefined relationship, but couldn't help but succumb to the temptation. It was the little things, really. The way she walked and talked like the world couldn't touch her, despite all the pain she's been through. The way they shared meals during rare movie nights at her apartment, the resulting sexual tension so strong that he often had to take care of the problem under the guise of a bathroom break. The way he subconsciously looked at her after a particularly clever line of questioning or when he won a case, her nod of approval sending jolts of pride into his chest. It was everything, to both of them. 

Rafael stopped in his tracks as he came to a realization. 

He was hopelessly in love with Olivia Benson. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Millie_Morris, I promise I'll get to the fluff soon! Just two more chapters until the scenes with Barba taking care of her injuries at home, both of which will probably be posted by the end of the night tonight, 1/4/21. For those who provided suggestions, they are in the next chapter!


	3. The Hospital: Part 2 of 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations between Rafael and Olivia, but mostly a trusting and vulnerable conversation between Olivia and Carisi as per a request. Sorry, I'm bad at chapter summaries.

Rafael pushed open the door carefully after jiggling the doorknob a little more than necessary to create signals that he was coming in and immediately started to analyze the woman that was supine in front of him. 

She wasn’t crying, but she wished that she could. It was a weird sensation, wishing to cry. Olivia sought its cathartic release, in private of course, but her mind and body would just not oblige. Perhaps the physical and emotional wounds were too fresh. 

He walked over slowly and cautiously, not wanting to intimidate the injured woman, but decided to take a risk and sit on the far edge of the bed near her feet. She felt the weight of the bed dip and shook her head to get rid of the Lewis flashback that was waiting in the far corner of her mind.

“Can you talk?” He wasn’t sure if he should ask, he didn’t want to cause any embarrassment if her silence was some form of voluntary mute coping mechanism.

Her hand was slowly raised and wavered horizontally a bit to make the universal “sort of” signal, and then she raised it to her neck and referenced the bruises that resided there. 

“I see.” 

Unexpectedly, the silence wasn’t awkward. It was a little embarrassing for Olivia to be in such a vulnerable state, especially when she was such a proud woman, but she knew that Rafael was not here to judge. 

“Liv, I need to ask you something.” They both knew what the question was going to be, and frankly, Rafael felt guilty for wanting to know something so private. However, it was beginning to eat away at him, and he needed to know. He needed to have the Band-Aid ripped off so he could see if the metaphorical wounds were either non-existent or infected. 

She made no specific movements, but her Rafa could read her like a book by now. All their time together – including their monthly late-night paperwork “parties” which Rafael looked forward to for weeks – gave the man a special ability to read Olivia Benson’s stony features. Of course, she could be a very emotional woman when dealing with sensitive cases and her drastic actions made her feelings obvious, but it was different when she was the center of attention. Whenever the spotlight was on her, for positive or negative attention, she began to close the gates. Rafael felt incredibly lucky that he was able to squeeze inside her watertight mind and didn’t want to compromise that. Especially when her facial expressions practically screamed,  _ “Don’t ask me if I was raped.” _

“That’s okay. No pressure.” His voice was meeker, and Olivia decided that humility looked good on the man who didn’t just walk but swaggered. Then again, it was hard to find something that he didn’t look good in. 

The loud knocking that suddenly penetrated the silence frightened Olivia more than she would ever admit, but Rafael saw her jolt in his direction at the noise. 

Dr. Cameron entered the room, introduced himself briefly, and washed his hands before he started to speak again. Olivia preferred it this way, as it gave her a chance to get used to his presence before he started interacting with her. 

“How are you feeling, Olivia? I know the nurses gave you some pretty strong medication to deal with the pain in your wrist and ribs, I know you are probably feeling a little out of it, but are you feeling any discomfort?”

She hated it when strangers called her Olivia, although she supposed that she didn’t like “Ms. Benson” any better. Both made her seem like a child. 

Refocusing, Olivia shook her head “no” even though that was not entirely true. She looked up at Rafael again, with some levels of fear in her eyes. Not the type where the adrenaline kicks in, but the type that invades the senses when someone is reminded of something they’d rather forget. Barba, who had access to the most information regarding the Lewis trial – although everyone knew that wasn’t the full story – immediately understood her hesitation to be under the influence of any mind-altering drugs. 

“Can you cut back on the medication?” He posed it in the form of a question for a façade of politeness but was ready to start giving demands at a moment’s notice. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but I need her to confirm that decision.” The white coat jostled a bit as he turned to face his patient. “Would you like me to decrease the rate of the morphine drip?”

Olivia nodded her head “yes”, and the man assured her that a nurse would be in shortly to adjust the IV appropriately. 

“Speaking of nurses, I can assign a forensic nurse if you would like. As I’m sure you know, the window for collecting the best possible evidence is rather narrow.”

Olivia felt a fit of familiar anger start to emanate from her chest, a defensive frustration to protect what she perceived to be her last shred of dignity. “I was not raped.” Her voice was firm but still quieter than she hoped it would be as her mind wasn’t comfortable with speaking right now. 

The experienced professional knew better than to push too hard, so he just replied with a statement that implied his position. “We found some suspicious bruis–”

She sat up like the pillow was on fire. “I! WAS! NOT! RAPED!” Her body rattled when she sat up and shook when she yelled, but Olivia was too angry – too protective of her secret – to feel the dizziness that was beginning to accompany any movement. Her throat and neck began to ache sharper than before, but Olivia did not regret her outburst and was ready to proclaim her denial again and again. 

The doctor didn’t flinch but instead moved a little closer to establish a personal connection with the patient. Instead, it just turned her anger into fear as she leaned further into Rafael. 

Barba was furious, but not at Olivia. He was angry at the man who stood here and questioned her judgment, but most importantly, was upsetting a woman who should be treated with the utmost kindness. “Get out. Right now.” 

Dr. Cameron remained calm as he exited the room. Certain jobs make you immune to certain things. Working in healthcare was like working in retail or the service industry in the sense that when people yelled, not a single worker really gave a shit. It wasn’t personal. Especially in Olivia’s case, the doctor understood that she must be under immense emotional strain at the moment and couldn’t handle anything else right now. He felt guilty, mainly because he was not a medical student anymore. He knew better. Nevertheless, Dr. Cameron wasn’t quite able to shake the feeling that Olivia was making a mistake she would regret. Perhaps he would try again tomorrow when the ground had settled a bit. 

Rafael wasn’t a foolish man, so he didn’t bother to ask if she was doing okay. Instead, he slowly wrapped her in an embrace – purposely giving her time to resist if she still wasn’t comfortable with physical contact yet. 

Olivia rested her head in his arms a little more, leaning into his body. His heart melted and lurched at the same time, conflicted between savoring the tender moment and being filled with empathy as she tried to engage in some breathing exercises. Taking a small risk, Rafael ran his available fingers through her thick hair and was glad that Olivia felt safe enough to close her eyes. 

However, she was reluctant to fall asleep – Olivia Benson was probably the most qualified to discuss nightmares and night terrors, both of which she frequently experienced even before joining the squad – so instead she decided to sit up a little. She felt like a toddler when she made the hand motion of opening up a book, implying that she wanted one. 

Rafael simply responded with “Of course.” He knew that she liked dystopias but figured that the hospital would probably only have the heart-warming ones that form the foundation of any Christmas Lifetime movie. He figured a little more happiness might be better, anyway. “I’ll pick you up one at the bookshop when I’m forcibly removed from this room in… 4 hours.” 

She grinned a little, but Rafael could tell it was only half genuine. 

Their momentary peace was stopped halfway through as the door creakily arced open and Rafael’s subtly aggressive demeanor and protectiveness kicked in, and both were probably sourced from their previous interaction with a visitor. A tired female nurse was followed by Carisi, whose eyes were downcast for the first couple of seconds before he had the courage to look up. 

The nurse adjusted her IV while addressing a question that Olivia never remembered asking in her previously medically impaired state. It was something about getting out of the hospital gown, clothing, and a basement. Just like when the doctor explained her injuries earlier, she didn’t retain much of the information. 

When she moved to unwrap the tape on Olivia’s wrist and applied some cream, she noticed Olivia’s intense repulsion at being touched. She pulled her hand back involuntarily the first couple of times but eventually managed to sit still for a couple of minutes. To distract herself from the small but unwelcome contact – her reaction to which caused her to blush with embarrassment – she looked inquisitively at Carisi. 

“Chief Dodds wants to speak with you, Lieu.”

Olivia enjoyed the use of the nickname; it gave her a welcome sense of normalcy amongst all the pain of today’s events. But the anticipation of a political and agenda-filled conversation with Dodds was unwelcome at best and had the potential to further traumatize her. 

Before she had time to shake her head no, a gentle but possessive hand was placed on her left shoulder and a somewhat-frustrated voice penetrated the awkward atmosphere. “Tell Dipshit he can go fuck himself.” 

“That’s what I said.”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise and a microscopic grin graced her features, awaiting the satisfaction of knowing that either Carisi exaggerated his mini-rebellion or that he really did say that to his boss’ boss. 

“Okay, you caught me. I miiiight be paraphrasing a bit. It went a little more like, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea at the moment…sir.’” 

Rafael was instantly grateful for Carisi’s entrance and felt incredible satisfaction at her hearty laugh, even if it was shortly replaced with a wince of pain and a look of shame. Olivia knew, anyway, that Carisi had her back, too. She was confident that he would have actually said that, or worse, if it meant keeping Dodds’ inquisition at bay for a while. The camaraderie and respect hit her like a ton of bricks, and a newfound respect for all three of her young detectives was beginning to form. 

The nurse, impatient, interrupted. “Who is getting the clothes? I need to escort them to the basement.” 

Rafael turned his whole body to shoot the nurse a look that would make anybody stop in their tracks; perps included. 

The youngest in the room piped up, sensing Olivia’s eagerness to get rid of any medical professionals and Barba’s come-fight-me attitude. He turned to Barba. “One of us can go pick out some clothes for Olivia to wear until Fin gets back and the other can stay here.” Carisi gave a polite smile to the nurse and then targeted a reassuring one at his Lieutenant, purposely making sure that Barba could choose which role he wanted to fulfill. 

The ADA was torn between leaving to go pick out the fresh clothes or staying to hold her hand. He wanted control of everything under the sun, but he knew he would have to relinquish a little if anything was going to happen efficiently. Making micro-decisions like this one should not be the impossible feat that his protective mind made it out to be, and he knew it. 

With one look at Olivia, he sensed that she wanted him to give her a minute with Carisi. He tried not to be a little hurt, especially since it was probably just to squeeze out any information from the detective about what she didn’t remember. Besides, Rafael was close enough to Olivia to be aware of her desire to have comfortable sweatpants and a baggy hoodie, something that he wasn’t sure the younger man picked up on. 

Rafael nodded and turned to Carisi. “I’ll go get the clothes. You can stay here.” He made sure not to talk about Liv like she wasn’t in the room, but he forgot to disguise his exasperation with his last words. “And make sure Daddy Dodds doesn’t make a surprise visit.” 

Olivia surprised both men when she grinned at the many nicknames of Chief Dodds, but her features quickly returned to their stony state. 

Carisi nodded back to the lawyer in response, who irately followed the nurse, then turned to Olivia when the door was shut once more. If she weren’t in such a vulnerable position herself, she might find humor in the sass that the tired nurse was most likely receiving right now.

Olivia was secretly thankful for her best friend’s controlling antics, as she wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout by herself. Of course, she knew that everybody in the precinct had her back since the day she started working at the 1-6, but not having a choice about being taken care of made it much easier to accept the help. 

Carisi decided to break the silence, which was awkward for him but comfortable for her. “Do you want to talk?” He knew the answer to the question before his neurons even crafted it, but it felt like an obligatory thing to ask. The man was, after all, incredibly concerned and – to be perfectly honest with himself – wanted to talk to somebody about today’s events but felt like discussing what he saw with anyone else would be a violation of her privacy. 

The muscles in her throat constricted again, and Olivia couldn’t identify whether the lack of speech was from her previous issues with the painful bruising or a subconscious way of preventing her from crying. 

She shook her head no, but Carisi sensed that there was something she wanted from him. He was shocked, after all, when Barba left the room willingly. Clearly, there was something that he just wasn’t picking up on.

“Do you have any questions?” The inquiry didn’t make sense to even Carisi at first, as she knew more about what happened than anybody, but he figured that her crowded mind but want some confirmation or clarification about what happened. 

She tried to use as few words as possible to express her concern, but her mind seemed to prevent pedantic speech anyway. “After I passed out.” It came out like a statement, so she hoped he knew what she meant. 

He nodded in understanding, then moved a little closer to the bed while making sure not to be an imposing presence. 

Carisi made sure to speak slowly and clearly so she could absorb all of the information. “The driving path was approaching a 3-way intersection, so he could only turn left, right, or go back. Fin, Dodds, and I helped ESU set up a trap with spike strips while Barba tried to extract any extra information from the man we had in custody. The daughter must have seen the spikes because she rode over them without hesitation.” Despite her hunger for knowledge, it was not the information she was looking for and he knew it. 

She wished Barba were here right now – not because of Carisi’s deliberate attempt to avoid the uncomfortable subject but rather because Rafael was better able to read her without having to speak. It took over 10 seconds to choke out a pathetic “and me?” It was barely audible, and a brown curly lock fell to frame her face as she literally shook the words out. 

He paused for a couple of moments, debating on how to phrase the information. They didn’t find Olivia in a compromising position – in a sexual sense at least – but he was well aware of her desire to not show weakness. Carisi also didn’t want to cause any flashbacks when he described the interior, so he kept it brief and unspecified. 

“When the car eventually stopped, ESU stormed it. Utley must have been brandishing the weapon because he was shot twice.” He answered the next question before she even asked it, his voice robotic. “I don’t know where, I approached the vehicle from your side. ESU was in too much gear to help anybody get out, and the ambulances could approach until we removed the road spikes. So two EMTs ran over and helped me untie you while Dodds got Utley. He was bleeding, though. Chest area.” 

His beloved mentor didn’t blame him for trying to build a wall between himself and the events. She knew how traumatic seeing your coworker in a near-death experience could be. But she did maintain eye contact until he elaborated. 

“You were very discolored, and your neck was in an awkward angle, but the doctors swear up and down that there wasn’t any permanent damage. We took off the zip ties and…” Sonny couldn’t help the small crack in his voice and subconsciously broke eye contact, seemingly scrupulously inspecting the sink across the room. “I used my jacket to cover your chest.” 

The detective tried not to be excessively soothing or gentle, but it was difficult. All training on how to deal with someone who just went through trauma was thrown out the window when dealing with Olivia Benson. She didn’t want to be soothed, or helped, or pitied. Olivia Benson wanted to press some magical ignore button and hope that everyone else did too. Unfortunately, all parties involved knew that this method wasn’t sustainable and it made the rare confrontations all the more awkward. 

_ Oh. He saw my scars… _

The embarrassment about them returned and she blushed, looking away as well. She wasn’t sure whether to be more concerned about the hideous marks, the stomach she perceived to be a sign of being out of shape, or the embarrassment of having every person there know exactly what Joe did to her. Tears began to form in the wells of her eyes but were wiped away before they could fall. Carisi was occupied with his own shame, as he was visibly surprised to see the deep marks on her skin. He knew he was not nearly as close with the proud woman as Barba was, but a toddler could read the room right now. 

His voice dropped to a near whisper. “Don’t worry, Lieu. I worked quickly. Nobody saw anything.” 

She doubted that, so Sonny redirected to a less vulnerable topic that was still related to her original question. 

“I know the doctors haven’t told you too much, or at least anything that you remember…” She nodded in confirmation and he continued. “but I didn’t see any injuries when I carried you out, and Barba didn’t mention seeing any in the ambulance…” 

An unexplainable sense of comfort washed over Olivia upon hearing that her Rafa was with her in the ambulance, but she couldn’t quite identify why.

“The blood on your face and pants seemed to be blood spatter, which means it’s Utley’s.” 

_ Did he just say “pants”? Did Joe pull them back up? Why would he do that?  _

Once again, she was reminded that Joe Utley was a piece of shit, but he was not William Lewis or Lowell Harris. For those men, it was primarily about how they got off hurting women. For Joe, it was solely for his own pleasure. He was human – a terrible human at that – but unlike her other kidnapper, he might have felt a shred of guilt. After all, drugs can only last so long before the rational mind takes over. Or, more likely, he wanted to hide his crime in case he was caught alive. 

Before she could fully bask in relief, Rafael entered the room with her gray sweatpants and a navy-blue hoodie, prompting Carisi to make his way out to give her some privacy. 

Surprisingly, Olivia wasn’t incredibly worried about the pity or the concern right now. There was a thread of hope that she was hanging onto. 

_ They don’t know.  _

That was good because she was done professing her denial. In fact, she was done talking for today and found immense solace in the fact that Rafael could do it for her. 


	4. The Car Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bridge chapter to better things, Olivia's car ride back from the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came to the realization that this work will be repetitive if evvverything is filled with too much angst, so I dialed it back just a touch. Besides, chapter 6 and 7 are looking good for discussions of PTSD and... maybe... a reveal? Ope.

**This is really just a bridge chapter until the fluff, as promised to Millie_Morris (finally!). Will definitely be nightmare and further trauma coming up tho, no way I’m going to let Olivia off easy…**

Rafael’s hands rested on the worn handles of Olivia’s hospital-provided wheelchair as he watched Fin’s car slowly advance towards where they were waiting at the hospital’s side exit. Fin had stayed overnight the previous day, although Olivia spent most of the night under the influence of sleeping pills, and tonight she was free to go. Of course, she was advised to stay under medical observation for another day or two, but Olivia disregarded the advice as soon as the discharge papers became available for her signature. Nobody was surprised that Olivia took the first chance to ditch the uncomfortable beds and the hallways that constantly reeked of bleach. Adding to the dismay of both her nurses and friends, she only allowed the administration of less than half of the appropriate painkiller dose. 

In fact, both decisions aggravated Rafael to the point where he forced her to make a compromise so that he could at least partially diminish the impact of her seemingly unwise thoughts. 

The motivations, however, remained unclear to him. Olivia hated to admit it, but she could not deny that a large part of her insistence to leave was a combination of shame and the trauma of the Lewis “incidents”. Although Dr. Lindstrom praised her for her great progress in therapy, she knew that there were elements of her PTSD and trauma that still haunted her. At least while captive, the pain was somewhat abated by the fear of death, albeit still incredibly torturous. In the hospital afterward, however, Olivia felt lost. There was no longer that grand goal of survival, which helped her push through the pain, to achieve. There was no more adrenaline to ease her nerves and focus her mind, except when the flashbacks and nightmares shook the weakened woman to her core with visions of perceived threats. The walls, which were painted institutional-white, and the endless labyrinth of hallways made her time there seem never-ending. Hospitals had always had a negative connotation to the seasoned detective, as the victims she met there were often experiencing the worst night of their entire lives, but now there were new words associated with the hospital experience.  _ Embarrassment _ .  _ Shame. Pain _ . Once, she had to give a victim a preliminary interview in a room that was two-doors-down from the one she had occupied for over two weeks. She didn’t make it through half of the questions. 

However, her current situation was worse. There was an unspoken understanding in the precinct that Olivia never disclosed the whole truth about her time in the beach house, but this was different. She might have excluded the truth two years ago, but this time around she had deliberately lied and felt guilty about it. The soreness…down there… was a testament to the truth. She could still feel him in her, even though he was still in the ICU. 

Olivia finally noticed that the car had stopped when the ambient noise of tire on asphalt had ceased, and Fin was patiently waiting for them to enter. She physically shook her head as if to shake out the negative thoughts, took a deep breath, and tried to steady her voice. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Rafael moved swiftly to wrap his arms around her waist after she exited the seat far too quickly for her weakened body and shaky legs – she didn’t know if her legs wobbled because of her half-medicated state or the events of the previous morning – to handle. Fin, who was watching from his position in the driver's seat, winced when she did. Rafael absentmindedly abandoned the wheelchair without returning it properly and helped her shuffle into the vehicle. A hot flash of pain, emanating from her abdomen – which she attempted to conceal unsuccessfully – briefly delayed the process although only momentarily.

When the best friends finally rested against the black leather of the back seat, Rafael released a pent-up sigh. Even though there was sure to be a long trek ahead, he took peace in the doctor’s assurances that she was stable. At least medically. He knew better than to assume that she was injured only on the physical level and made a mental reminder to make sure the woman beside him had more frequently scheduled therapy sessions.

Olivia’s face was a little banged up – the white butterfly stitches starkly contrasted her bruises and olive skin – which only worsened the guilt Rafael felt when he couldn’t help but notice her stoic beauty. 

Sensing that Rafael was looking at her, Olivia tensed up and turned to face the window. “I’m fine”. She assumed that Fin’s huff of amusement from the front of the car matched Rafael’s doubtful look. “I’m serious, guys.” 

Fin rolled his eyes and quipped up while maintaining eye contact with the incredulously slow car in front of them. “If you are expecting anyone to believe that, then you shouldn’t be.”

Olivia glanced at her best friend to see if he shared Fin’s sentiment. The fact that he was too busy studying her injuries to notice gave away the answer. 

  
Before both men were hit with a barrage of meaningless reassurances, Barba partially donned his ADA demeanor and laid down the law. However, that didn’t stop the Lieutenant from nonverbally disagreeing at every opportunity; even though she knew the truth. “No, you are not fine – Olivia, stop it. We both know it’s a lie – and as part of our arrangement, I’m going to help you out a bit – Liv, you do need help – until we are both confident you can manage it by yourself.” 

“Rafa…” She noticed his microscopic wince at the use of this nickname because both knew she only used it in especially friendly or circumstances in which she needed something and was satisfied at its effect. As much as she hoped many times before that her Rafa would spend the night – these fantasies were often accompanied by a toy that buzzed – she had no desire for him to witness a breakdown. “Is this really necessary?” 

He snapped his tongue a couple of times, in the same way Noah does when correcting an adult. “You know the deal, Liv. You insisted that you leave the hospital, but now it’s your turn to fulfill your end of the bargain.” 

A genuine smile, although small, graced her tired face. “Did you just  _ tisk tisk  _ at me?” Her playful tone was laced with exhaustion but still induced a similar expression to invade Rafael’s otherwise deeply concerned features. Fin grinned knowingly at their banter. 

“Maybe,” Rafael smirked briefly but became somber once more. “But this is serious. You agreed that you would let me take care of you – emotionally and physically – and that includes listening to the doctor’s home-care orders.” 

“I… thanks.” The meekness and acceptance in her voice were not expected by any of the passengers, the speaker included. Olivia knew she needed his help, but hell would freeze over before she would ever verbally concede any ground in the “I’m fine” argument. 

A heavy sigh became audible before she had the chance to stop its escape. The thought of Barba staying at her apartment was not entirely undesirable, but the thought of an overnight visitor was intimidating. Her attempts to keep her resolve were successful so far, but this temporary facade would wear off eventually. The longer she tried to resist the cathartic release of a good cry because of the presence of her visitor, the more dramatic it would inevitably be. Sitting in the car, she still wore her original panties from the day before tomorrow when… it… happened. Olivia – even the drugged-out version – must have made sure that the nurses didn’t remove them, and she is confident that the insistent Dr. Cameron has kept her clothes in an evidence bag somewhere. She is partially grateful for her wise control over the situation and partially filled with an urge to cry as the dried fluids become even more noticeable the more she thinks about them. 

Olivia Benson almost never lets men ejaculate inside of her. 

She corrects her own thoughts.  _ I didn’t let him. _

Fin, who had been debating how and when to confront one of his closest friends, decided to make his move as the car slowed to a stop in front of her apartment building. “Barba, give us a sec?” 

The ADA was not always easy to read, but both remaining occupants could tell he was displeased and impatient as he exited the vehicle and waited underneath the arched entryway of the building. He huffed and puffed as he did so, largely for show, and Olivia was surprised at how valued his possessiveness made her feel. 

Understanding that Liv had a “friend” waiting for her, Fin got to the point. He contorted his body in a semi-uncomfortable position so that he faced her, which he hoped would help get his point across. “Let him take care of you, Liv.”

There was a pause. “I just…” She couldn’t find the right words. Lindstrom worked tirelessly to assuage any fears of being perceived as weak but building walls were almost instinct at this point and being vulnerable became unthinkable. 

Aware of the current dilemma that was clogging the gears of her mind, Fin took over. “I know.” With almost 17 years of working alongside Olivia, the seasoned detective was familiar with his fellow detective’s response to trauma and knew better than to shrink her. Instead, he preferred the straightforward and call-it-how-it-is approach without any hint of the sugar-coating bullshit that they both loathed. “Look, Barba’s concerned and scared. All of his fussing and micromanaging of the situation is just his way of dealing with…this. Let him do his thing.” 

“I will.” The doubt on his face was obvious to her. “I promise that I’ll try my best. Really, Fin, I will.” 

“Good. Because if I hear that you’re givin’ Barba a hard time… you know I don’t back down from a challenge.” The usually unreadable man couldn’t help but feel ineffably relieved when the semblance of a playful grin emerged on her face. “One more thing…”

There was no audible response, but Olivia’s inquisitive look gave him the nonverbal permission he needed to continue. 

“You ever need somebody to talk to, we’ve got your back. Any time of day or night. And I know that Cap and Munch aren’t here with us anymore, but the same goes for them. Plus…” He glanced to his left and right before lowering his voice, although the seclusion of their conversation didn’t require either precaution. “You know I can keep a secret.” 

They both knew he was referring to his discretion with the Sealview incident, but the heavy topic didn’t damper the incredibly grateful mood she was just put in. Olivia was beginning to choke up. “Thank You.”

She paused, unwilling to make any eye contact, before continuing in a tone much quieter than before. “I have to go back tomorrow to get my hard cast. If… If I decide not to take Rafael, can you?” All her years at SVU, telling victim after victim to get a rape kit before it is too late, must have pounded the message in. Olivia only hoped that she would be brave enough to do it tomorrow, still half contemplating other options. 

“Of course.” He returned a soft smile at her referring to Barba by his first name but was a little confused about why the lawyer wouldn’t go with her. He didn’t show it, though. “Go on, baby girl. Loverboy is waiting.” 

Olivia made sure that he could see her dramatic eye roll before opening the door, which signaled Rafael to come over and help her down. Fin watched curiously – although an increasing sense of intrusion ruined any chances of a witty remark – as the lawyer placed one hand in hers to help her descend gently and his other hand found a home under her arm for support as they walked towards the entrance. 

Despite the vastly different circumstances that all three encountered today – and the challenges that will inevitably arise for each – they all shared a common thought as both colleagues made their way to her apartment.

_ Well… this is going to be interesting.  _


	5. First Day Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day back home, Olivia gets a call from Rollins and then has lunch with Noah and Rafael. A brief incident inspires Olivia to call Fin to come get her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do actual work when I can post another chapter? Honestly, I look for the little (1) in the Inbox like a kid looking for their Christmas presents. Anyway, here some of the fluff, I hope it fulfills every expectation, but don’t worry because there is more to come! Just not next chapter or the one after that. I have a whole plan with room to accommodate suggestions, don’t worry. Speaking of suggestions, I used some here, but the nightmare is going to have to wait until The First Night. 
> 
> Also, I am really going to dive into some awkwardness about the temporary situation (esp with sleeping arrangements) soon! Its just that this chapter was so long (by my standards) that I only added mentions of awkwardness here instead of exploring their thoughts. Besides, it’ll be more tense when Noah is asleep and its dark out and... I’m getting ahead of myself. 
> 
> This chapter was all over the place, but I think people will enjoy it because there is lots of little things. I hope you like it!

Olivia pressed the ruler firmly into the zip-bloc bag as she ran the straight-edge over the plastic until it reached the green seal. The bag was sealed so tightly that she had no doubts that it might even be waterproof.

This was not the proper way for storing evidence and Olivia felt a keen sense of guilt because she knew it, but she couldn't stand to stay in that cursed underwear any longer. Getting the rape kit over with wasn't an option right now, either , as her mind needed a break from the darkness that had consumed the last 36 hours. She planned on also bagging her current pair in case any residual fluids were to appear later , just as a precaution. The dry gag at the thought that Joe's "fluids" were s till in her was involuntary.

Face to face with her marble countertops, her mind filled in for the lack of stimulation. Statics started to swim through her head, almost mockingly. _Sperm cells can be detected in vaginal swabs up to 3 days, and in cervical swabs, up to 7_. She had time, but not much. It was already the middle of the second day.

Olivia looked up at the bathroom mirror and remembered when she stood in this position just over two years ago. Her face was similarly marked by the red puffiness that accompanies her white-hot tears. At least this time, there were no scissors in sight and she sure wouldn't be cutting off any hair. Olivia was 48 now and felt much too old to wear that short hairstyle but also didn't want to let Joe control her life like Lewis did. Besides, she wouldn't cut any off even if she wanted to.

_Rafa likes it this way._

Before she had any time to contemplate exactly why she thought of Rafael, her new phone – a temporary flip-phone provided by the NYPD until she got a real replacement – buzzed with ferocity. Olivia's reflexes and reaction time were uncharacteristically slow, so the small device almost vibrated itself off the countertop before she finally worked up the courage to answer it.

"Benson." Her tone was obviously laced with exhaustion and irritability, but she made very little effort to mask it.

"Hey, Liv. It's Amanda."

"Please don't tell me we caught another case." The following huff of frustration was audible through the phone's speaker.

"No, that's not it." The blonde detective was a little hurt that her boss only assumed she was calling because of a case but brushed it off quickly. It was likely that nobody else had checked in yet under fears of scaring her further into her shell, anyway. "I'm just checking in . Do you want me to take Noah for the night? "

"Oh ... um... not tonight. I think I'm going to stay in and relax with my little man. He comforts me, you know?"

"Yeah, I do." Both women, although their relationship had been rocky recently, were beginning to connect over the fact that both were mothers. Noah stayed for sleepovers at Amanda's house every once in a while , and Olivia took Jesse when the new mom needed a break. This new bond was smoothing over the fractured pieces of their relationship one at a time.

Silence on the other end of the line gave the younger woman the courage she needed to investigate a little more.

"Are you going back to therapy?" Amanda could almost tangibly feel the other woman's mood souring again.

Olivia didn't mention that she never stopped her weekly visits with Dr. Lindstrom. "I don't know."

That was a blatant lie, as Olivia did know. In fact, she had already made an emergency appointment at the request of the man currently waiting in her kitchen. But Amanda's comments from a year prior created an almost instant change in the proud woman's openness about therapy. Of course, she wasn't exactly welcoming of discussion regarding Lewis in the first place, but her mentions of therapy would be nonchalant and only had small tints of shame. Now, she never said anything. She pretended that she had someplace else to be. Someplace less embarrassing.

"I'm sorry for what I said. About needing someone to talk to."

"It's fine." Olivia felt a shot of warmth in her chest. The kind that people get when they are extremely ashamed, vulnerable, and want to curl into a ball.

"It's really not, Liv." Amanda took an audibly deep breath. "I was hurting. About Patton. And I tried to hide it for so long, I guess I was just an emotional powder keg that happened to blow up on you. Turns out, I need someone to talk to, too. "

"I said it's fine." Her throat pain made it come out much harsher than she had intended. Olivia meant to say it with sincerity – to pretend that she was, in fact, over it and to solace the obviously guilty woman at the other end of the line. Instead, it fell out of her mouth before she could stop it, the phrase dripping with venom. Olivia felt shame for her verbal reaction to Rollins, which honestly matched her feelings about the whole topic. She knew that the young woman was just trying to help, but it just made her feel even more vulnerable. And to be honest with herself, the mention of Rollins trying to hide what happened with Patton only further entrenched the reminder that Olivia needed to come clean eventually.

Silence.

"I'm sorry, Amanda. I didn't mean it to come out like that. I've been having some trouble speaking, and I tend to be short with people. It's just... hard. And I don't really like talking to people about things, as I'm sure you're aware. "

"It's okay. I understand." The blonde detective truly did understand. The Patton trial had caused her to lash out at many close friends, even when she was grateful for their help. "My offer with Noah still stands, though, in case you change your mind."

"I'll think on it. We might take him to the zoo soon, he's excited to see the new baby penguin." The adoration in her voice replaced the previously sour tone, and Amanda was grateful that she had managed to steer the call back in a positive direction.

"We?"

Olivia could almost see the playful grin on Amanda's face. "Yes, we. Rafael is staying over a little while."

The curious younger woman chuckled and did not attempt to hide it. "I see..."

She blushed. "The only thing I see is the pot calling the kettle black. And you can tell Carisi that too, since I'm sure he's somewhere in your apartment right now."

"Perhaps."

Olivia actually smiled a little bit. "Don't tell me anything, I need to have deniability."

Amanda redirected the conversation back to a more serious tone, to reassure Liv, even though she knew that her boss wasn't too concerned about it anyway . "We actually aren't together, Liv. He's just helping about a bit."

" I know, I'm just messing with you." The last sentence was invaded by the returning coarseness to Olivia's voice. She barely managed to choke out the last few words before coughing.

"Are you okay?"

The injured party tried to circumvent the uncomfortableness by whispering. "My throat. It acts up. Dryness. Bruises."

"It's okay, I have to go get Jesse now anyway." The infant cried on cue. "Just... I'm sure you already know this, and I'm sure I'll be the last one you want to talk to, but I've got your back."

"You too. And..." She raised her voice back to a normal level, although there was some scratchiness. "thank you."

"No problem."

Olivia pressed the small red button to end the call, a little ashamed that her voice betrayed her when their conversation was starting to go well. Recently, the relationship between the two women had improved – albeit slowly – and Olivia felt ready to go out and enjoy time with her son, a new sense of satisfaction helpi ng the process along.

* * *

"Was that Lieu?" The good-looking detective rocked his partner's baby, soothing the girl back to sleep against his chest as he sat down.

Amanda released a sigh and leaned back into the couch as he did. "Yeah. I think it went well. Eventually. Didn't have the best start, though. "

"She doing okay?" The concern in his voice was evident.

"There isn't really a way to tell with her, but I think Barba is helping."

"Barba?"

"He's staying over at her apartment for a little while."

Sonny's caring features turned into a wide grin, looking down at Jesse to hide his expression. "I see..."

"That's what I said! " She sat back up again, now fully engaged. "Do you think that they are together?"

He tried not to steal a glance at her cleavage when she leaned forward to discuss the main subject of office gossip. "I don't know. Maybe they are just friends but... definitely a little suspicious."

"Exactly. They spend so much time together. It's really only a matter of time."

"I hope so." He thought about his own relationship with his partner, in disbelief that Amanda didn't see the parallels . He spoke the next words softly, as not to disturb the baby, unaware if he was talking about himself or Olivia. "They both deserve to be happy."

The young man continued to console the infant, looking down at Jesse's content face every so often while he stole glances at his partner across the cushions.

* * *

Rafael didn't want to pry, or better yet, he didn't want to overwhelm her with his prying. He tried his best to mind his business when Olivia's voice started echoing through the bathroom door and was rather proud that he lasted a w ho p ping 2 minutes without asking after she finally came out. "Who was that?"

"Rollins."

Straight to the point, with no explanation. Despite the thought that the brevity could be attributed to her effort to minimize throat pain, her tone was brilliant in its finality. Clearly, she didn't want to elaborate, so he dropped the subject and refocused on his original task of cooking .

When they arrived in her apartment just under an hour ago, Olivia ignored the potential awkwardness by giving Noah her attention. Rafael stood – unsure what to do even though he had spent lots of time in her apartment before – and watched them interact with an unfamiliar emotional lens. He soon joined them in playing with the boy's large collection of toy cars, and he caught Olivia's eye periodically to nonverbally check if she was okay. When Noah said that he was hungry, Rafael took the initiative happily so that the exhausted woman wouldn't have to.

He was originally going to cook his favorite – special version of ropa vieja that his Abuela used to make for his birthday – but soon realized the dish would be too someone's childish palate. And of course, Noah wasn't too adventurous either. Opting to veto Liv's suggestions for chicken nuggets or Chinese – at which point Rafael took away her choosing privileges with a humorous chuckle – he instead chose to make quesadillas and a special rice recipe. The good kind, though, because deep down Rafael knew that this was kind of a test. A trial-run. To see if he really could play the role. Although he wasn't certain if he was proving it more to Olivia or to himself.

Rafael deposited the delicious-smelling meal onto plates for each of them, accompanied by the rice, but gave Olivia slightly smaller portions than him. He knew that she would most likely not have a normal appetite and didn't want to make her feel embarrassed by it. The weary man breathed a sigh – the type one makes when finally completing a task – and stopped to watch Olivia and Noah watch cartoons.

Olivia spent equal amounts of time watching Shaggy's shenanigans as she did to stop and adore Noah's reactions. She laughed when he did, cried when he did, and secretly loved when the small boy instinctively leaned into her when a scary part was shown on the excessively large screen. Olivia tried not to think about how Noah was purposely on her left side so that he wouldn't cause pain to her fractured ribs when he did this. She expelled those unwelcome thoughts by focusing on the villain's nefarious antics and tightening her embrace around the boy.

He couldn't help but chuckle a bit. _Maybe she really is a child... What other 48-year-old woman watches Scooby-Doo with interest?_ The thought made him laugh out loud a little until he thought that maybe she was just living out the childhood she never had.

_Damn it. This job is ruining me ._

The thought couldn't be further from the truth, but the lawyer was too focused on the domestic scene in front of him. Suddenly the wavy brown locks turned to face the kitchen. "What's so funny over there, counselor?" She used his title-turned-pet- name, and he loved every syllable of it.

"Nothing, Lieu ." The impression of Carisi was spot on, and she smiled. He lightly placed two plates of the prepared plates on the breakfast bar so that both Bensons could sit while his own plate rested on the countertop in front of him.

The reason why he didn't put them on the coffee table and eat in front of the TV was only a mystery at the surface level. He inwardly knew that he wanted to prevent any distractions from their light hearted conversation. He wanted to talk with them, not watch TV. He wanted to be part of their routine.

He wanted to be part of their family.

Instant shame spread throughout his chest, but Noah was busy describing the faults of another preschooler while Olivia was intently listening, so they didn't notice his downcast gaze. He swore he wouldn't use her vulnerability to start their budding relationship but was partially absolved when he realized that this path was inevitable for them, anyway. W hy not be here for Olivia? Besides, he was sure that nothing was going to happen and had high faith in his abilities to determine whether he was truly taking advantage , so he resumed participation in lunch with the Bensons.

Olivia's voice was unfortunately out of order for a while, perhaps she was saving some talking for later, so Noah and Rafael had some time to form a comfort level in between bites.

She only stopped the lively interaction when Noah asked "Mista Baba" if he could " a'rest Timmy. Cuz he not pick up da red blocks today" and the lawyer responded with, "I'm not sure, little man. But that's one hell of a way to get my name in the papers."

Her humored and dramatically pseudo-shock ed expression told him that she meant to say, "Barba! Language! "

Eventually, Rafael was able to take their plates and gently put them in the sink with his cooking materials – he reminded himself to do the dishes – while Olivia listened to her son.

He finally made a proposition when there was a break in Noah's half-insensible babbling. " Does anyone want ice cream ? I think I have some . " He winked at Noah.

Her grin was mischievous, but he noticed the coarseness of her voice . "Are you offering me my own ice cream? From my own freezer? That I bought with my own money? And claiming it's yours?" Olivia was satisfied in her decision to draw out the comment for effect rather than succumb to the uncomfortableness emanating from her throat.

"Objection. Irrelevant." He playfully made a dramatic scoffing motion. "Do you want ice cream or not?"

They both looked over at Noah, who ate more of Rafael's quesadillas than he did turkey on Thanksgiving. His mother would be lucky to get him into his bed for a nap before he drifted off into a food coma.

Olivia could barely contain her laughter – at her own joke no less, which somehow made it funnier for Rafael to witness – as she choked out her own unreasonably obsequious impression of her favorite young detective. "I don't think that's a good idea at the moment, _sir_ ."

Rafael roared with genuine laughter , his face scrunching up, while Olivia admired the scene. Perhaps it was the hilarity of Carisi's admission, or perhaps it was the extreme darkness of recent events that made both colleagues desperate for emotional relief. Either way, Olivia had never seen her best friend like this.

She had heard him laugh before, but it wasn't ever nearly as hearty as it was right now; when he was red-in-the-face with laughter in her kitchen over a joke that wasn't even really that funny to begin with.

She had tasted his cooking before, but it wasn't ever nearly as thoughtful as it was right now; she could almost taste that he had tediously measured each ingredient precisely.

She had seen him interact with Noah before, but it wasn't nearly as caring as it was right now; she had remembered the conversation when he had dramatically played along in a discussion about preschool gossip , and Noah's loud laughter.

The domesticity of the moment was interrupted when Rafael – after he had put Noah down for his nap – began to tidy the kitchen and moved the chopping knife across the kitchen and into the sink . The movement was brief, but that's all it took. She no longer saw Rafael Barba holding the knife he had just used to cut the tomatoes. She saw something else entirely, something that put drove a sense of fear straight into her heart as if it was the stake one would use to kill a vampire . It reminded her of Lewis and her scars. It reminded her of Utley and the soreness between her legs. It reminded her of the pain in her throat and hands and neck and ribs and abdomen and –

"Liv? " She felt her body be shaken, and she reflexively pulled away. "Liv? Can you hear me?"

Her brain was confused but intelligent. When breathing became difficult, it knew that nothing else mattered. She could hear him, but she couldn't speak. She could barely even process what he was saying, let alone respond. The only thing that mattered was oxygen and only one thought ran through her mind.

_I can't breathe._

The similarities between this moment and the one less than two days ago were strikingly powerful. She felt a rush of air but was unaware that she slipped off the chair, and felt a presence holding her but was unaware who it was. It felt like all of her nerves were dulled, like every physical feeling had been sanded down until she could barely comprehend them.

Rafael was struggling to hold her body up, so he gently lowered both of them to the floor. He was a strong man, but the immediate response to catch her resulted in an awkward position that was unsustainable. He put her hands above her head while she laid partially supine – as he had seen sports players do after getting the wind knocked out of them – as his mind raced on what to do. He figured that she must have passed out, given that she fell so quickly and her previous mumbling of "please don't" ceased as she very briefly lost consciousness .

When she finally calmed down enough to open her eyes, she saw herself in Rafael's arms, on the floor. She smelled his cologne and felt the softness of his shirt against the back of her neck while she tried to ground herself. Olivia let herself go slack as she caught her breath and partially relaxed her tensed muscles as Rafael stroked her hair the way she loved.

"It's okay, Liv. You're okay."

She couldn't respond verbally but shook her head in acknowledgement . He dropped the urge to take her to the hospital, sensing that he was perhaps overreacting but simultaneously not being able to shake the feeling of intense concern that he had never felt before. He felt an overwhelming amount of fear during the hostage situation, but this was different. Rafael could actually feel his body reacting to his emotions as his chest tightening with worry.

In a couple of minutes , she rose and headed for the bathroom on shaky legs .

Olivia ached for a shower. To wash any remnants of that disgusting man off of her. Out of her, too. But she didn't make it past the bathroom door frame before realizing that she couldn't shower. Not until she got the rape kit, anyway.

Olivia wanted to cry with frustration.

She dialed Fin's number quickly and furiously with tears in her eyes – which caused her to have to retype the numbers more than once – and she prayed that he would pick up. Luckily it was around noon, so he was surely awake.

"Liv?"

"Yeah." She couldn't quite admit the truth yet, though. "About that hard cast. I'm pushing the appointment up to today. Would you mind picking me up?" Her voice was filled with a sense of finality and spite.

If there was any way to get Olivia Benson to do something she didn't really want to, spite would do the trick and then some.

He briefly wondered how she could change the doctor's orders to wait a day but didn't hesitate to respond. " That's not a problem, baby girl. When should I come over?"

"Just meet me outside of my apartment as soon as you can." _Before I change my mind._

Fin started to grow even more suspicious at the urgency of her voice but had faith that Olivia had a good reason. He also knew that Barba was staying with her, so he figured that she didn't want to say anything too sensitive over the phone right now. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Thank you." She started to choke up at the end of the sentence, not knowing if it was from shame about previous events , panic about future ones , or the knowledge that Fin just dropped whatever he was doing to come get her.

He sensed this. "Do you want me to stay on the phone?"

"No, it's okay. I have to get some things ready . I'll see you in ten."

Olivia was nervous but took comfort in the fact that getting the rape kit didn't necessarily mean she had to tell anybody. So, she replaced the tissues and years-old receipts in her purse with an extra pair of underwear, a hoodie for later, a bottle of ad hoc pain pills, and her anti-anxiety medication. She didn't answer Rafael's question about where she was going, she just told him to keep an eye on Noah. He was, at least, a little relieved that she chose to seek medical attention but was a little concerned about her reaction to the incident. Olivia's mind was too clouded to think of anything else than the immediate future.

This was happening.


	6. The Rape Kit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia gets the rape kit, accompanied by Fin, but calls Rafael and Noah to help her get through it.

**The first part might be a little boring, but please stay until the part where she calls Rafael. It'll be worth it, I promise. It'll hopefully break your heart into little pieces.**

* * *

In the car, they sat in silence.

Now the pseudo-siblings occupied two semi-cushioned chairs deep within the bowels of Mount Sinai. Olivia felt some guilt at making Fin take the long drive but the thought of going to Mercy was upsetting for a reason that Olivia didn't fully understand. Maybe she just didn't want to risk being recognized by the few and familiar forensic nurses that worked there. The waiting area – which was just three chairs pushed up against an outcrop in the wall – made her shiver with anticipation.

In the hospital, they sat in silence.

Olivia's mind races with half-incoherent thoughts that are largely interrupted by inordinate amounts of anxiety. The liminal space of the hallways is anything but comforting – instead, it seems to offer the trademark sense of suspense that corrupts the air inside any hospital. They are tucked away in some corner of the facility that is apparently rarely visited – both a comfort and a curse as Olivia is grateful for the lack of curious eyes but has no option to watch the passersby for distraction – as they await a nurse to take them both back to where the examination will occur.

Fin's mind is similarly bombarded, but he only had questions. Why are they here? What part of the hospital is this calm? What did Olivia say to the front desk nurse that he wasn't allowed to hear? Why isn't Olivia talking?

At the last thought, he looked over at the woman beside him. She was clutching the purse that rested in her lap, but her eyes looked around frantically from one object to the next. They searched both ends of the hallway for nurses, glanced at the silver watch, and rechecked the time by examining the obnoxiously large digital clock at the end of the corridor.

"What are you thinking about over there?" Fin figured that this was a much more acceptable question to Olivia than asking if she was okay.

She was thinking about many different things at once, everything swirling around like some perpetually moving and undecipherable abstract painting.

Olivia had trouble talking once more, but now it was caused by the sudden dryness of her throat. "Lots." Her answer barely made sense, but Fin was able to piece together what she meant.

He leaned in closer – but not too close – and lowered his voice. "Talk to me, Liv."

"I just..." Her voice started to crack. "I'm nervous."

Fin nodded in acknowledgement, the pretense that they were there for her broken wrist now fully disproven. "Can I ask you something?"

She nodded yes, but continued pretending to inspect the stitching of her closed purse.

"Why are we really here?"

Olivia initially responded with silence but thought that it might be cruel to let Fin's mind wander through all the possibilities. It was almost easier to just tell him directly, but she couldn't. "You know why." It came out as a whisper.

Fin didn't know what to say, but he felt instantly... deflated. He had his suspicions that something had happened but tried not to think of the horrid possibilities. Fin certainly wasn't going to make her say it, but he wished for confirmation. To be certain. To hear her admission. He wondered if she told Barba. But he knew better and sensed that she wanted to wait in silence for a little while longer. He obliged.

A couple of minutes later, a weary nurse made her way down the hallway and spotted the only two non-scrub-wearing people in sight. The woman was upbeat but not cheery, as she understood that her job involved helping patients who had just been through a traumatic ordeal.

The nurse glanced at her clipboard when she stopped in front of the pair. "Are you Olivia Benson?"

Olivia nodded. She had intended to give a false name at the intake desk – she usually used Margaret Cragen – but was so flustered after asking for the rape kit that she just defaulted and told the truth.

"Good morning, 'mam. My name is Octavia Butler, but you can call me Ava, and I'm a registered nurse here at Mount Sinai. Before we begin, do you have any questions that I should address before we get to the examination room?"

Olivia shook her head no, which was followed by Fin's brief explanations that they worked in Special Victims. She tried not to see the change in Ava's expression, even as momentary as it was, when the young professional began to understand the harsh irony of the situation.

Olivia and Fin both rose to follow Ava as she led both detectives down the hallway and into the examination room. She figured that the hospital had tucked away this area on purpose to ensure privacy, but the quiet stillness put Olivia on edge.

Olivia sat on the edge of the examination chair, a horrendously stiff contraption, while Ava slowly maneuvered throughout the room, taking out and labeling bags, combs, swabs, and envelopes. Despite the familiarity of these items, each one brought on a new sense of apprehension. Especially the swabs.

The usually confident and carefree older man didn't know what to do with himself as Olivia watched each item being brought and set out on the metal table beside her. He thought about sitting down but didn't want to appear out of reach. He didn't want to stand beside her, either, in case she wanted space or privacy.

Thin fingers subtly motioned for him to come closer – the movement so small that Fin figured she was ashamed to ask for help – and he quickly took his place next to the examination chair. He, too, was nervous – and felt guilty about it. Despite all his years at SVU, he had never made a habit of accompanying victims throughout this examination – they usually preferred a female, anyway – so he wasn't any more prepared to watch one of his closest friends endure the process.

Ava's voice shocked Olivia out of her spell with a slight jump.

"I understand that you were voluntarily discharged from Mercy this morning?"

Fin sensed her trepidation, which was limiting some of her talking abilities, and answered the fact for her. "About 4 hours ago. She went home for a bit."

Ava checked off a box before continuing.

"Now, is it okay if I call you Olivia, or would you prefer Ms. Benson" Ava suddenly remembered that her patient was NYPD. "... or...um..."

Fin came to the rescue once again, a little sharper this time since he knew how much Olivia didn't like to be called either name by strangers. "Lieutenant."

The young girl quickly recovered and resumed as before. "The good news is, Lieutenant, that your medical history records are on file from our partners at Mercy. Assuming that nothing has changed...", she looked at Olivia for confirmation, "then we can start the next round of questions."

Olivia nodded again, the familiar ache of anticipation resonating throughout her chest. Part of her, though, knew she would be relieved to tell somebody, especially Fin, her closely guarded secret.

"Have you engaged in any sexual activity in the past 48 hours?"

"No." Her voice was robotic.

"Now, for this next question, I'm going to need you to answer honestly. It will not impact anything else in this procedure except for determining if you need a toxicology screen. Were you – or do you believe that you might have been – under the influence of drugs or alcohol within the last 48 hours? This includes any recreational activity as well as anything connected to your assault. "

"No."

Ava's voice became slightly quieter, in a more comforting tone. "Did your assailant attempt vaginal intercourse?"

Olivia looked to Fin, then back down at her boots. She could only shake her head yes, forcing her muscles to obey before the cowardly part of her mind changed its decision. Tears began to well in her eyes, and Fin couldn't help but subconsciously look away out of respect for his coworker. His own throat began to choke up and he tried to prevent his own tears from falling as he thought about all the years he has worked beside this woman. All the times he's protected her, and especially all the times he failed to.

Ava checked a box. "Did your assailant attempt anal or oral penetration?"

"I was... unconscious for a bit. I..." She winced, trying to hold back any stray tears. "I don't think so."

The proud woman was still reeling from the monumental event that just occurred, even if the nurse didn't pick up on it. This was the first time she had ever acknowledged the rape, even if it was just a nonverbal head nod.

Ava had a few more questions about the assault, which were answered with short and robotic responses. Olivia tried her best to distance herself from the assault, almost talking about the experience in the third person. Time passed in a blink as Olivia barely remembered answering or her response to the questions. She must have contributed something, though, because Ava finished filling out the first form and slowly walked over to prepare the swabs.

"Wait."

Ava looked over at her patient.

"Can you..." Olivia barely managed to choke out words as her throat constricted in preparation for crying. "Can you take the pictures first? I want to do the swabs last."

"Some patients like to get the hard part over with, but the order doesn't make a difference if you'd like to change it."

"Please." Olivia hated the begging tone of her voice. She despised the implication that she was weak, and reminded herself that if she was truly weak, she wouldn't be getting the rape kit in the first place.

"No problem." Ava pushed back the small rolling stand that contained the long cotton swabs and their appropriate tubes, moving to fill the rather large camera with film. She would be taking both digital and polaroid pictures. "I am going to need you to undress, Lieutenant. You can change behind the curtain and hand me your clothes and change into the gown. I'll then sort them into–", Ava motioned to some white containers on the floor, "these bags."

"Dr. Cameron has my clothes from the day before." Her tone was wobbling on a dangerous cliff.

Ava was sincerely sorry for the woman in front of her, but tried not to show any pity. "We have those as well. I'm sorry, but its procedure."

Olivia didn't move. She couldn't. She was frozen in place, but not by a flashback or panic attack. Instead, it was the intense trepidation at getting undressed. At being that much more vulnerable.

Fin didn't touch her but did call her name softly to pull her out of the spell. She found comfort rather than frustration at his caring voice. "Hey, Liv, it's okay." He reached out, with extreme caution, to remove the stray lock of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. "I have an idea."

She looked up at him, the clear tears glowing silvery as they reflected the brilliant overhead lights.

He continued, almost inaudibly. "I can call Barba for you." He expected the head shake he received in his response, but he elaborated. "You don't have to tell him anything. He doesn't even need to know where you are. Just talk to him, about anything."

"Fin... I don't think..."

"Trust me on this one, Liv."

Fin, who could read Liv like a book, was the first one to notice the early warning signs of her budding relationship with the counselor only months after he started working with SVU. He knew worked after-hours at each other's apartments, that they occasionally split meals, and saw that they never had to use words to exchange their thoughts on something. Although Fin knew they weren't together – the levels of suffocating sexual tension told him that they hadn't acted on anything yet – it was kind of hard to believe that everyone else only noticed their suspiciously close friendship in more recent times.

Fin knew that if a combined effort from himself and an unknowing Barba couldn't help Liv through this, it was practically impossible that anybody else could. Except maybe Sta – _fuck that son of a bitch._ Fin couldn't even think the man's name without becoming irate, so he resumed his original thoughts.

It was up to them, whether Barba was in on it or not. So, he insisted one more time.

She finally relented. He retrieved her purse from the far corner of the room and passed it to her with a look of encouragement.

First, however, Olivia practically threw the zip-bloc bag containing yesterday's underwear to Ava – pinching it only between two fingers as if it was poison – and searched for her temporary flip phone.

Olivia dialed the number with trepidation. She couldn't bear to let Rafael in on the secret, or at least not like this. The truth about her ordeal with Joe was purposely kept from him at least temporarily, and although Olivia felt guilty about that, she rationalized the betrayal. She knew that she wouldn't be able to get through the recovery without him, but it only happened yesterday, and Olivia's emotional wounds were still too tender.

When she tried to tell him this morning, knowing that she needed his help, her semi-irrational thoughts took over and she couldn't. She couldn't face him and tell him that NYPD's famous Olivia Benson was raped by some piece of shit off the side of the road. Besides, she could wait to tell him, but she couldn't wait to get the rape kit.

_I don't want him to think I'm too weak. That I let him down. That I'm too damaged to be with... to do things..._

Her destructive thoughts were cut short when he picked up. "Olivia?"

"Hey, Rafa." She winced at the way it fell from her lips like a squeak.

Rafael immediately sensed that something was wrong. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. I just..." She took a couple of deep breaths in quick succession as she warded off her tears by focusing on the image of Rafael waiting for her back at the apartment. "Do you mind playing a game? Maybe 21 questions? I need to take my mind off something."

If it was later at night, Olivia would have requested to listen in on Noah's bedtime story, but it was too early for that and she couldn't exactly ask for him to read to her without drawing any extra curiosity. So, she settled on the second-best option, which would hopefully lead to an immerse conversation about something trivial like whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie or not.

He proceeded with hesitation, unsure where this was coming from or what the "something" was. "Um... sure, Liv. Noah is still napping so he won't interrupt."

Olivia mentally set a standard for herself. For every question she asked or answered, she would remove an article of clothing. She hoped this would distract her enough to not be overwhelmed by the vulnerability of the situation and her reluctance to remove her cotton armor.

Olivia knew that undressing and putting on a gown shouldn't be this hard. That it shouldn't cause this much emotional strain to be naked for a couple of seconds. But she couldn't help it and felt weaker for it.

She decided that she needed to have his voice coax her through the first step. "You first."

Rafael, in between sips of his midday coffee, took a few moments to think what to ask. As their relationship got more comfortable over the years, the questions got more complex and weirder as they got to know each other better. "If you had to choose between being the first female pope or the first female president, which one would you choose?

She ripped off her sweatshirt and shirt before he finished talking, moving faster than a NASCAR racer to rip off the Band-Aid. Ava took each one as it was handed over. "I suppose... pope. Nobody hates the pope now, except, you know, everybody in history." Her slip-on shoes hit the floor with a soft tap. "Plus, I would have the job for life and get to live in Italy."

"Well, I hate to cut hairs here..." His mischievous smile was cut down a little by the reminder that his whole purpose now was to distract Olivia from something she was going through, which only made him take more time for humor. "Technically Vatican City is the smallest country in the world because it is an independent city-state. You wouldn't live in Italy. And, second of all... What? That's nonsense. I'd be President Barba in an instant."

She resisted the urge to give short responses, knowing that elaborating would help distract her mind. Discussing the classification of the Vatican is much easier than focusing on the fact that she would soon have someone touching her most intimate and recently violated parts. Parts of her that had been groped, torn, and bruised. She swallowed the saliva that had built up in her mouth and reset.

"Okay, but I would still live near Italy. With Italians. Eating Italian food." She hesitated before loosening the elastic band of the sweatpants. For obvious reasons, removing this garment felt more intimate and intimidating than the others. "And as for President Barba... of course you would."

Rafael wasn't sure what the pause was in between each sentence, but the intelligent man understood that he was here to entertain, to ease her mind away from something. Something that was bad enough that she called him for emotional relief. So he was going to provide it. "It's your turn. Or do you want me to ask another?"

Olivia couldn't determine if she would be more distracted by creating a question or by answering one, but she did know that it would be hard to craft complex ones while she struggled to keep her head on straight enough to answer his. "Can you just ask them? I'm sorry, it's just that... I..."

"It's okay. I don't mind." Something was definitely going on, and Rafael felt guilty while he tried to decipher the little noises he heard in the background.

"Would you rather live the rest of your life as a NYC pigeon, or... an indoor cat?"

"Cat, probably. I hate NYC pigeons." Olivia removed her bra – the same one she wore yesterday, and she had to try hard not to notice the small speckles of blood on it – and handed it to the nurse on the other side of the curtain. "Although I'm sure that being stuck inside all day would get boring quickly."

She quickly donned the gown at lightning speed to avoid any more unneeded exposure. She rounded the corner and reappeared in the main section of the room, her eyes meeting Fin's downcast gaze. He could no longer hear what Barba was saying, though, because Olivia took it off of speakerphone so that Rafael wouldn't hear the nurse giving instructions.

Rafael finished his coffee with an audible gulp. "Remember when that especially spiteful one took a shit on your blazer right outside of the courthouse?" Olivia could hear Rafael chuckle to himself as he fondly recalled the memory.

Ava, fully aware of what was occurring, whisper-asked Olivia to lie down on the green plastic surface of the examination chair. Her shaky legs barely managed to support her as she approached it, and Fin helped her wobble up on to it.

"I'll never forget him. At least he didn't target you, though. You'd have a meltdown over your silk tie."

He huffed in agreement. Rafael heard someone talk in the background but couldn't determine what was being said, despite his efforts, and the weird crinkle of paper muffled the noises.

The nurse lifted the gown to right below her bust and paused, camera in hand. Ava motioned for Olivia to mute the call briefly.

"Hold on, Rafa. Just a second." They could all hear the panic rising in her voice as she pressed the mute button. "What is it?"

"It didn't say in the file... I thought that this was a singular incident. I need you to change the forms a little, Lieutenant. There are more questions for long-term abuse."

_She thinks my scars are part of the Utley assault..._

An ineffable amount of embarrassment spread through her body like wildfire as she watched Fin's unsuccessful attempt to stop staring. He had never seen the cigarette burns that littered everywhere below her cleavage. Or the blowtorch burns that trailed eschar scars all over her arms. Or the ones he saw on the glimpses of her upper thighs, even though she swore Lewis never took her pants off.

Fin snapped out of it, bogged down with guilt, and stepped in before Olivia was forced into any more emotional distress. She had already huffed and snapped her body back against the chair in distressed irritation. "It's from a different incident. Not related." His voice was soft, quiet, and defeated. He was ashamed that she even had to differentiate her assaults, now that there were three of them.

"Oh. I see. That's okay. I can still document the injuries sustained to your abdomen, and just make a small note in the file." She saw the hot tears flowing down Olivia's cheeks, even though Olivia refused to look at anything else but the ceiling. "It's nothing to worry about, Lieutenant."

"Just get it all done with as fast as you can. Rush if you have to. I'm just about done with this."

Ava periodically raised and lowered sections of Olivia's gown for pictures as Fin played with her hair, as per request. He tried not to look below her face to preserve modesty, and Olivia appreciated it immensely. She kept her eyes trained into his when Ava asked her to spread her legs so there could be a photo of the bruising on her thighs and genitals, and Fin curled her locks around his fingers and wiped tears away when things got to be too much.

Finally, it was time for the swabs. Since Olivia was unconscious for an unknown amount of time, there would be anal, oral, and – what Olivia was most apprehensive for – vaginal swabs.

Still holding Fin's left hand while his right fluffed her brown tresses, Olivia maintained eye contact like he was a lifeline to another reality. A better one.

But she needed another lifebuoy if she was to stay afloat – drowning in this sea of despair was Serena's downfall, it sure as hell wouldn't be hers – and she remembered Rafael. The phone must have been muted this whole time, but the lawyer stayed silent patiently and didn't hang up.

"Fin?" He was standing close, so much so that Olivia whispered.

"Can you put Barba back on?"

"Of course." He reached over, unmuted the phone, put it on speaker with the volume low, and laid it next to Olivia's head.

When the nurse swabbed her cheek, she didn't wince. But when Ava guided her legs into the cold stirrups, Olivia couldn't control the stream of tears. She didn't know why. This wasn't nearly the most traumatizing experience she'd encountered – not by a longshot – but there was something so emotionally provoking that she couldn't describe it.

Having something, even something with such a small diameter, enter her so soon after what happened... it was unthinkable. Not to mention the use of a colposcope, which was a camera device nearly the size of a phallus, used to document internal damages. Combine that with the soreness and tearing... She almost wished that she had brought sleeping pills so she wouldn't have to go through any of this consciously.

She figured that trying to hide her tears would be more pathetic, so she just spoke without any delay. "Hey, Rafa."

"Liv... I... I can come get you. Where are you?" Rafael thought that maybe after the hard cast was put on, she went out to drink her woes away. He couldn't lie, her developing wine habits were beginning to shake his hard exterior even when he thought about it at work. Rafael started to look for his keys, about to check Forlini's for any signs of the distressed woman. "What are you doing?"

"I'll tell you later, Rafa. Just not now. But don't worry. Fin is here with me." Olivia's voice was interrupted by the weeping babbles that warp words while she squeezed his hand again, and he used his right hand to frame her face in a way that prevented her from seeing the nurse's movements in the periphery – only because he knew how much she hated to look. "I'm going to be okay. I want to talk to Noah. And you. I'm sorry we only got through two questions."

Her apologetic everything-is-my-fault mentality was beginning to set in, and Rafael had to put a stop to it.

"It's not a problem. We can continue when you get home, Liv. I'll go wake him up."

Olivia felt guilty for waking her son, but he had been napping for hours now and it was likely that he wouldn't go to bed easily tonight. Better to wake him up now before he woke up on his own.

She heard the incoherent babbles of a toddler get closer to the phone and her face wrinkled with a smile.

"Mommy!"

"Noah! How was your day with Uncle Rafa?" Her voice quaked when Ava combed through her short pubic hair, and she gasped when one of the hairs was pulled.

"I be seepin alllll day!"

"You've been sleeping? Did you have good dreams?" Her cheery voice might have been fabricated, but the relief that was caused by hearing her son's voice was real.

She didn't hear Ava's warning – or maybe she just doesn't remember acknowledging it – because the q-tip-like structure was suddenly moving along the inside of her rectum. It didn't hurt so much as it was uncomfortable, but she semi-silently groaned and involuntarily wiggled a bit at the brief contact.

"Da best! I pay wiff the biggest blocks!"

Another warning, and another swab. This one was vaginal. It wasn't as bad as Olivia had predicted, but then again, there were already tears streaming down her face so who really knew which tears were for what?

Rafael's heart lurched with each warped syllable, knowing that he couldn't do anything except talk her through whatever the hell she was doing. Was she drunk? Hurt? At least Fin was with her. Maybe she's at Fin's apartment, overwhelmed with the emotions of the past two days. Whatever it was, he was determined to get her home quickly, and into his arms. He could almost physically feel the vacancy there.

Ava motioned for her to mute herself – Fin pressed the button – once more, before giving a brief explanation of how the daunting device worked and the colposcope's purpose. Knowing that her patient wished to leave this part out, she also explained its importance in documenting any tearing.

"Mommy, you not 'spond. I ask if we facetime?"

The smaller part, that opens the vagina so that the camera can see inside, looked formidable. It was much smaller than anything Olivia used for personal pleasure – especially while entertaining thoughts of Rafael – but this was a completely foreign scenario. An unwelcome, but necessary, one. The vaginal swab, now resting in its designated tube, was thin. The entire purpose of this device was to stretch her walls.

Ava got confirmation multiple times – nonverbal wouldn't cut it, so Olivia had to choke out permission – before continuing.

"Not right now, my sweet boy."

Fin pressed the mute button again, knowing that the next part was most likely going to be embarrassing to Olivia. The metal felt cool against her as it slid in slowly – Ava had done this before and was an expert at rape kits by now – and did its job with efficiency.

Olivia couldn't stop the sobbing convulsions, as uncharacteristic as they may be. She wanted this thing out of her, to stop feeling this familiar pressure, but her resolve remained strong. Sensing that this needed to be done quickly, Ava moved the larger part of the machine and aligned it so that the pictures could be taken. Olivia squeezed Fin's hand with both of her own – even though it was not painful, the emotional toll was thoroughly exhausting on the mind – and he resumed the stroking of her hair. It took about two minutes to take and check the pictures, at most, but to Olivia it felt like an entire lifetime had passed.

Ava carefully removed the device, much to Olivia's relief, lowered her gown, and helped the woman sit up straight.

"You're all done, Lieutenant."

Fin's hands helped support her down from the examination table before moving to wipe away his own stray tears.

* * *

It was finally over.

That's all she could think as she put on her pre-packed replacement clothes, which weren't far away from just being pajamas, and exited the examination room. She knew, logically, that her battle with this trauma was actually still beginning. But the sense of pride in herself, for going through with something so daunting to her, was still there. She was going to let herself enjoy it just a bit longer, before the new reality set in.

As Olivia and Fin trekked through the long hallways, the windows no longer let bright sunlight shine through. It was almost dusk. She checked her watch, it was about 7:00. The process took every bit of the full four-hour estimate. Plus, she still had to get her hard cast, which was scheduled to take place in ten minutes.

She was aching to see Noah. To see Rafa. She was ready to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some research for this, so the rape kit procedure is pretty accurate. I hope that this chapter absolutely demolished your heart. My apologies for the droning on, I know it’s a lot, and I’m sorry. Just can’t help it sometimes. But please read the whole thing (or at least the part where she calls Barba) because it is heartwrenching! 
> 
> And yes, I’m so sorry to inform you, the reader, that every single one of these 4,000 words are about the rape kit... not much variation here but lots of emotional hurt. I hope you like it! 
> 
> Notes at the end: I don’t know if I pulled this off... but I certainly tried.


	7. The First Night Home Part 1 of 2

**Olivia obviously needs a lot of rest but I doubt she'd want to take a nap in the middle of the day, esp in bed. Could be really sweet and sad if she ended up sleeping against Rafael on the sofa and slipped down to rest her head in his lap, with a pillow he puts there because he's over cautious like that, and woke up in a brief panic until she realizes he's stroking her hair?**

**-hoosierfriend**

**(I used part of this prompt here, the waking up part will be in the next chapter)**

* * *

Fin offered to walk Olivia up to her apartment, but Olivia needed a few moments to herself. She had no problems walking through the lobby, climbing the stairs, or waiting in the elevator, but she hesitated when her hand met the doorknob.

Olivia wanted to see Rafael. She wanted him to hold her, comfort her, and play with her hair the way that only he knew how. Noah would be sleeping, however, so there was a significant chance that the inquisitive lawyer would ask about the emotionally straining events of the night, which was the real cause for the hesitation.

She took a deep breath and entered the dim apartment, hanging her coat on the coat rack and taking in the scene before her. The apartment was only lit by the kitchen counter lights, which bathed the whole space in a dim yellowish glow, and the muted TV.

Rafael, after he sensed her entrance, rose from the couch to investigate her wellbeing of the woman in front of him. She looked physically fine from what he could see, if a little emotionally beat up, but he resisted the urge to stop and frisk her for injuries. That was, for obvious reasons, not a good idea. So instead, he just observed her as she settled in.

"Hey, Rafa." She dropped her purse by the front door and slipped off her shoes, then turned to face the man standing behind her. "I... I just need to say something."

"Anything."

"I can't talk about tonight right now." Olivia promised herself she wouldn't cry again, so she took a moment to turn around and compose herself before continuing. "And I really need you to respect that. I know that... I know you're curious, and I'm so... sorry. But it's going to have to wait for tomorrow." Her voice wobbled again.

"Whatever you want, Liv. Anything."

Olivia became visibly relieved, but her tears betrayed what she was truly feeling. Perhaps the emotional day, or maybe the pure sense of gratitude towards both Fin and Rafael, was too much.

Rafael, ignoring his curiosity and guilt, slowly and carefully approached the emotional woman so that she had ample time to stop his movement if she wasn't comfortable with physical contact. Instead, she closed the gap and leaned right into his gentle embrace. Without her signature heeled boots, she was about an inch shorter than him and her right cheek soon rested on his left shoulder as she breathed in the scent of his cologne.

The familiar spice of his cologne – most likely some expensive brand that Olivia wouldn't recognize – helped pacify her mind as he caressed her arms and spine, forming distinct shapes with his pointer finger. Identifying them put her in some sort of daze.

_Smilie_ _face. House. Triangle. The word "Hi"._

The warmth of his neck on her forehead was oddly comforting. He felt her cheek muscles contract, and the lack of tell-tale shaking told him that it must have been a smile. They swayed slightly, but only millimeters in each direction. He gently motioned for her to pull away, but only enough so that he could cup her face while his other hand maintained its position on her back. Their stood chest to chest, feeling each other's warm breath as they synced their breathing.

She only lightly whispered, "Hi", mimicking his drawing from just before.

This was the closest he had ever been to Olivia, their bodies pressed together in a way that wasn't entirely sexual but wasn't exactly platonic, either. Rafael glanced at her lips, losing any resemblance of composure.

Rafael breathed a quiet "Hey."

The moment – whatever it was – was interrupted as the apartment was flooded with the dramatic cries of her son. She remained still for a few moments, lowering her head under Rafael's chin, before addressing the boy who was now standing in the kitchen; clad in dinosaur footie pajamas.

"Mommmmy!"

"I know, my love." The pair pulled apart, both of their chests feeling suddenly colder than they had felt only moments before. "I'm coming, sweetheart."

"Bad dreams!" Noah's tears were wiped away as Olivia kneeled to embrace him. "Spiders."

Olivia couldn't help the small smile, although she tried to hide it. Noah came face to face with his first spider no less than a week ago when he found the rather large creature in the corner of his bedroom; he refused to sleep in the "bug room" for days afterwards.

She picked him up and he rested his head against her as she held him close. "Oh, my sweet boy. It's going to be okay." Her body bounced slightly as she continued to rock him, and the scared boy held onto her discolored neck tightly. Olivia made eye contact with Rafael while drawing patterns on Noah's back with her fingers to soothe the boy, very similar to the motions Rafael made moments earlier. "It's all going to be okay, my love. I promise."

The composed professional felt as if he was falling apart at the seams. His tough outer shell was beginning to crack, and his stone heart was softening as a new feature of his soul was unlocked. Rafael had observed Olivia with her son before – so many times that the frequency was almost suspicious – but the soft yellow lighting and the intimacy of the entire situation struck a chord. The sense that he was invading their privacy was long gone, but a feeling of belonging was beginning to form. Even though he knew Olivia was past the childbearing window, something primal was activated as he watched her coddle her "baby" boy. The self-admonishment at thinking such a thought was unusually half-hearted.

"Noah, honey, it's time to go back to bed, okay? I can read you a short story." Olivia couldn't lie, she was in a rush because her body was itching for a warm shower to scrub off Joe's touch and she was beginning to feel dirtier by the second as she thought about the rape kit that was performed only hours before.

"I not go sleep wiff the bugs." Noah saw his mother's reaction. "I not."

She began to think about the swabs and the probing and the pictures. Then, Joe's filthy hands as they traveled lower and lower until– she needed to snap out of it. "Please, Noah."

"I not!"

Luckily for him, Olivia was exhausted and didn't have the energy to argue, even though this attitude would have to be discussed in the morning. "Now, my love, I need to take shower whether you are awake or not. So as a special treat, maybe you could watch cartoons with Uncle Rafa until you fall asleep?"

"Yes!" Noah jumped with joy and Olivia realized that she probably made the wrong decision if she wanted to lull him to sleep. The excited boy – being up at 9, let alone watching television, was a rarity – turned to his Uncle Rafa and left no room for discussion. "We see Scooby!"

Rafael, keeping his voice down because he understood Olivia's goals, kept his voice low as he sat down and began to find the program. "Scooby-Doo? Again?", he groaned with a hushed over-dramatic tone as Noah crawled into his lap and settled in for his episode.

* * *

The comforting warmth of a typical shower was gradually replaced as Olivia adjusted the temperature higher and higher until condensation droplets began to pour down the mirror on the other side of the curtain. She scrubbed her skin raw with the loofah but didn't stop standing under the heavy stream when the hot water began to irritate her tender wounds.

She tried her best not to focus on why she was doing this to herself, but the presence of those men in her mind seemed to be an inherent component of these types of showers.

Olivia thought of Harris when she raised her hands to clean her hair. She thought of the position she was in nearly a decade ago in that horrid basement, her hands handcuffed above her head to the locked door while she desperately tried to keep her mouth sealed from any intrusion.

Olivia thought of Lewis when her soapy hand passed over each bump and valley on her marred skin, some were white while others were pink. She thought about his blowtorch, his wire hangers, his cigarettes, and his sickening smile when he used all those tools to create ear-shattering screams that nobody heard. Those toxic memories were hard to deter and even harder to exile once they took hold.

Most of all, Olivia thought about Joe. She thought about the way he entered her with force, the way he groped her breasts, and the way her vaginal walls felt when his unwelcome member invaded her flesh and stretched it until Olivia was sure she was being torn in half. She thought about the rape kit and all the embarrassing vulnerability that went with it, the trial that would occur if Joe survived is injuries, and the shame of having to tell Rafael.

Eventually, the heat disappeared. Understanding that the water must have gone cold after such a long time in the shower, she finished up and quickly got dressed into her pajamas without totally drying off.

* * *

Rafael moved the sleeping boy off of his lap – his legs were going to sleep under Noah's weight – and onto the cushion. Although he should probably move Noah into the adorable racecar bed, Rafael was focused on The Wire – the volume lowered significantly – and was busy enjoying the domesticity of the quiet moment.

He reflexively turned his head to the opening bathroom door as Olivia emerged. Rafael's eyes immediately focused on the redness of her skin and her puffy eyes, but decided to wait until she approached him. The cushion on his left squished under the newfound weight and the back of the couch was beginning to dampen as her wet head rested against it.

Heeding her earlier warning that she didn't want to talk about it tonight, he didn't mention his observances. He did, however, catalog them into the newly-formed list of concerns.

She paused to take in the scene before her, glad that Noah had found sleep and was leaning contently against the side of Rafael's chest. His right arm reached out to rest upon the back of the couch above Noah's peaceful body, giving off a sense of protection. Olivia was tempted to take a picture of her boys – correction, her boy an her best friend – but knew that she'd never escape Rafael's gaze long enough to take the photo discreetly.

She then saw what was playing on the abnormally quiet television. "The Wire? Please tell me you didn't let Noah watch this."

Rafael chuckled. "Consider it an introductory course into his future career as a detective."

She was somewhat confident in his newly discovered child-care abilities (there was an effort to stop herself from thinking the word "parenting") but she also knew that the tough lawyer didn't second-guess decisions once he made up his mind. His joke was met with a half-frown.

"I'm kidding, Liv. Noah had been asleep for ages before I even considered turning this on."

Now content, and finding immense comfort in the reassurance of his babysitting capabilities, she turned up the volume slightly. "What season?"

"The old ones. 1 or 2, I think. But I haven't really been watching." Rafael spoke softly, as their voices could still be heard above the ones of the fictional characters.

If he wasn't watching the television, then he must have been thinking.

Rafael was a man of above-average intelligence, and Olivia was sure that he would connect the dots if he tried hard enough. Rafael Barba's thinking was dangerous to begin with, but the heavy weight of her secret made her anxiety even worse. At least until she found the courage to come clean.

Finding the woman beside him was gazing absentmindedly into the distance, he hoped that she wasn't experiencing a flashback that he wasn't equipped to deal with. "Still with me?"

"Oh. Uh… Yeah."

"I think I actually remember this episode now. This is where things really get interesting with the wire taps." He stopped to make sure she was alert and attentive before continuing. "Want me to make us some popcorn?"

"I'm not hungry. Besides, if you get up, you might wake Noah."

He huffed in agreement.

Although the intricacies of the fictional narcotics case were unfolding before their eyes – and Olivia was watching eagerly to focus on anything other than her own thoughts – Rafael was struggling to not think about how close their bodies were only an hour before. How her hair smelled. How her breasts pushed up against his chest. How close they were to crossing that line.

_Stop it. This is not the time or place._

His self-admonishment was harsher than usual because he knew that sitting here, with Noah in his arms and Olivia by his side, was a privilege. A privilege that shouldn't be taken advantage of, and certainly one that could be taken away at any second.

Before he had any time to reluctantly mull over his theories about where Olivia was tonight, he felt her body shift and the new weight of her head – her hair was still damp – graced his left shoulder. Her head fell into a fall-then-startle-awake-then-go-back-to-sleep-then-repeat cycle, which he ended by letting her head continue its natural course of resting in his lap.

Her body – barely conscious but semi-aware – adjusted to the new position and her legs swung over unto the cushions until her entire body was prone.

Being the overprotective man that he was, Rafael shifted slightly to cover her with the Thomas The Train blanket and put one of the throw pillows – the shaggy orange ones he pretentiously thought where hideous – between her head and his muscular legs.

Rafael drifted off to sleep as well, accompanied by the ambient sounds of the television and both Bensons leaning against him.


	8. The First Night Home Part 2

**I want to explore the whole we-are-sharing-a-bed-thing and the sexual tension but right now (after a nightmare) is certainly not the time. Maybe next chapter when Noah has questions about why Uncle Rafa is "sleeping with Mommy"... idk but I do know that more fluff is in store to stay tuned! This was a shitty chapter in terms of writing quality (sorry) but I was trying a new method of dictating my thoughts and then editing it a little bit. I like my original way better, so I'll just stick to the normal method from now on. Oh, and while writing this, I was thinking how fucked up it would be if Olivia had a miscarriage in the beach house. Maybe I need therapy, maybe I'm a sucker for writing internal anguish.**

**Remember that PTSD nightmares aren't always accurate as to what actually happened and the facts can get distorted easily. The first half of her nightmare is more or less according to what I think could have happened, the second part is a little more of the distorted type.**

* * *

Olivia startled awake, immediately concerned with her surroundings. She felt a warm hand resting on her forehead and her limbs began to shake with adrenaline. It only took mere moments, however, for her to realize that the man touching her was none other than her best friend, Rafael Barba. Olivia's chest was filled with warmth and an understanding set in; Rafael must have taken to playing with her hair soon after she fell asleep. His soft fingers must have slipped after he dozed off into a turbulent slumber, and as Olivia sat up, she began to understand the situation with immense gratitude.

The grey blanket was strewn across the floor and the orange pillow remained on Rafael's lap, while Noah rested against his other side. Deciding it was best not to wake Noah, Olivia made her way back to her bedroom reluctantly – but only after lazily taking pictures of the two. The desire to stay in Rafael's caring embrace was strong, no doubt, but now that she was awake and Rafael was asleep, it seemed almost intrusive to wrap herself back in his arms without him knowing. Besides, there was a heavy chance of nightmares and she didn't feel like embarrassing herself any further tonight. Or – her watch read 1 in the morning – this morning. Day 3.

The moonlight shined through her bedroom window, illuminating her path as she hesitantly got under the covers. The intense trepidation of lying prone on a mattress was suffocating but Olivia convinced herself that overcoming this fear was a necessary landmark of her recovery. Even though she was sure that Lindstrom would balk at the idea, Olivia felt as if she needed to force herself to overcome this to prove to herself that she was ready, that she was whole. After only 15 minutes of restless rustling – and getting up to plug in the nightlight – Olivia finally succumbed to the fatigue that she could never manage to truly escape.

* * *

_Lewis made her look him in the eye as he slowly unrolled the toilet paper, square by square. Her handcuffs cut against her wrist and the tape bruised her ankles as she struggled against her restraints, but there was no point. The feeling building in her chest was more than resentment, more than fear. She regretted letting him "help her", it would have been better to just piss herself._

_He startlingly reached out and pulled her by her arm until she was standing, pants around her ankles and shame in her heart. Lewis tilted her chin, so she was forced to look at him, and slowly dragged the thin paper over her sensitive flesh. The motion was repeated twice before he moved to get more._

_The coarse paper was slipped in between her folds this time. It didn't stop like the last times, though. The gagged woman unintelligibly begged in protest as it briefly brushed her clit. Her muscles contracted involuntarily._

_"You like that?"_

_He did it again and she bucked again. The movements, the sensations, were uncontrollable and both parties knew it. But while Lewis took ineffable amounts of sadistic pleasure in her involuntary arousal, Olivia just repeated the mantra "arousal does not equal consent" until her neurons could no longer form intelligible thoughts._

_He abandoned the toilet paper and taped her hands as a precaution before uncuffing her wrists, only to restrain them around the shower curtain bar. It was a beautiful rusted metal one attached to the wall, where the clips would attach around it instead of sliding onto it. God, he loved this old house._

_Olivia stood on her toes, her stomach unprotected because of her raised arms, as she tried to hang all her weight on the bar in hopes that it would break. It didn't._

_He slid the cuffs, and her body, down the bar until her body was partially pressed against the partition between the shower and the toilet. Cold fingers touched her folds and tears began to flow down her face at the same pace of his ministrations. His hands barely fit between the gap of her thighs, as her bound legs left no room to push them apart, but he made do._

_There was no penetration. There was, however, constant stimulation of her clit until Olivia was unwillingly close. He flicked it a couple of times, and although he knew it was too risky to put his head between her legs to lap at her core, he wanted to. Instead, Lewis continued evoking her involuntary movements with his fingers. The cigarettes and knives were ignored, it was time for a new type of torture. It would be more painful for her to orgasm at his cruel hands than it would be to mutilate her flesh. He would burn this memory into her brain until her last waking moments, this time without the help of the blowtorch or lighter._

_"Come for me, Livvie Love." He felt her manage to pull away for enough time to stop the growing warmth in her lower abdomen. Lewis used his free hand to put the cold barrel of the Glock against her skull. "Come!"_

_The shiny droplets that poured down her face were constant now, and so were his motions. She couldn't help it. She hated her own body as much as she hated him as her genital muscles spasmed in waves of humiliation and more wetness gushed out of her. Her eyes shut closed as she sobbed and tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was too late._

_When she opened her eyes, she came face-to-face with Joe in the car that Lewis drove. He spent no time trying to humiliate her, took no pleasure in stimulating her sensitive flesh to make her involuntarily squirm. He just wanted to feel his own pleasure, and fast._

_Joe aligned his member and pushed into her, but she didn't know whether to be grateful or ashamed that it didn't hurt as much this time. Lewis must have warmed her up. Speaking of Lewis, he was driving. Chuckling the whole way, too, as he watched her rape in the rearview mirror. Still, though, her sensitive skin stretched beyond its readiness and she thought that it might just rip in two._

_Joe's movements became faster and more erratic as somebody started calling her name._

_"Liv!"_

_His movements became more forceful and his member pushed deeper against her cervix as Lewis roared with laughter._

_"Liv!"_

* * *

Rafael was startled awake by an unfamiliar wail of anguish that would have shaken the pictures on the wall if he had cared to look. Instead, his immediate focus became Olivia. He let Noah's small body rest on the cushions before half-running to her bedroom. Understanding that it wouldn't really count as an invasion of privacy under the circumstances, he barged in.

Her body twisted and she contorted into awkward positions as her arms blindly swung at the nonexistent threat, the blankets and sheets trapping her limbs. "Get out of me!"

Rafael was an ADA assigned to prosecute SVU cases, he was not an SVU detective. Ill-equipped to deal with this situation, the man felt his characteristic confidence become replaced by anxiety. "Liv!" He decided to stand near the door and shout her name, unaware if touching her would wake her up or make it worse. "Liv!"

Unfortunately, this wasn't effective, and the frantic woman still flailed around as if she were possessed. Another blood-curdling scream emanated deep within her diaphragm.

He made the bold decision to shake her arm, backing away immediately afterward to not get hit by the resulting reflexive swing. "Olivia!" Rafael saw her eyes open slightly as her body gradually stilled, so he lowered his voice to nearly a whisper and approached her with great caution. "It's me, Rafael."

Her thoughts transformed from _No!_ to _Help me!_

Olivia's eyes were open, but her mind was split between realities. Tears streamed down her face as she once more became a prisoner of paralyzing adrenaline and terror. "Please, Rafa, get him out of me..." Her voice became quiet as her body shook against his arms when he gently wrapped her arms against her stomach and propped her up. "Get him out... it hurts."

He stood on the side of the bed while Olivia's upper body was somewhat supported by his arms, and gentle whispers fell from his lips out of instinct to comfort her. "He's out, Liv. It's just us. You and me, Liv."

Olivia wasn't totally convinced and begged him one last time until her verbal expressions dissipated into a pathetic repetition of "Please."

He moved matted locks of hair out of her face and encouraged her to take deep breaths while her erratic panting, combined with the leftover adrenaline, quickly sapped away any remaining energy. She barely heard the actual words and assurances but was grateful for his voice. It grounded her.

Rafael continued to comfort her as he lowered her head onto the pillow and released her arms. He made a mental promise to not contemplate the meaning of her pleas while she still needed comfort. His speculating could wait, she couldn't. "You're okay. It's okay."

They stayed like that for no less than half an hour, Rafael ignoring the tiredness of his muscles and fingers as he twirled strands of hair and closely monitored her features. Playing with her hair quickly became another sign of intimacy and trust between the two, and neither one took the service for granted. Olivia began to relax, letting the exhaustion of her efforts wash over her weary muscles while the comfort of his presence made this level of vulnerability possible.

Rafael tried not to think about the meaning of her words under the guise of protecting her privacy, while the truth was a more selfish desire to be blissfully ignorant. The urge to know and the urge to not know occupied parts of his mind simultaneously, like some emotionally confusing version of Doublethink.

After many moments of peaceful silence, both growing content against each other, Rafael wondered if her panic woke Noah. Luckily, however, he didn't hear any movement from the boy in the other room.

Before he could stop himself, he lowered his head to whisper to Olivia. "What about the neighbors? Do you want me to tell them not to call the cops or anything?"

She huffed and felt herself begin to mentally resign with shame. "They know the drill by now." Her voice was robotic.

"Oh."

"Yeah." She huffed and resumed lying motionless on her back, catching her breath.

Olivia practiced her breathing exercises while her body went slack against the luckily dry sheets (wetting the bed could be an embarrassing aspect of PTSD nightmares sometimes). Rafael stood next to the bed, quickly becoming unsure if he should go and give her some privacy.

She struggled to open her heavy eyes for longer than a couple of seconds but managed to meet Rafael's. "Stay?" It was almost inaudible, but as always, he understood perfectly.

"Of course." The situation was cataloged carefully, but he was still left at a loss. "Um... where..."

She could barely gather the courage to admit that she needed him next to her, so voicing that sentiment was impossible. He was only met with a huff as she rolled over to the right and drew back the covers, exposing the area where she was previously resting.

Rafael became aware of his outfit – he had not yet changed into the pajamas packed in his overnight bag – and promised a semi-clingy Olivia that he would be back shortly. The bag was ungracefully snatched from beside the couch as he rushed into the bathroom to change. As he shreds each layer and replaces it with a pajama equivalent, he was forced to remind himself to not think about two concerns: the implication of her frantic words earlier and the new levels of intimacy he would face in the immediate future. Rafael could only pray that his body did not betray him as he lay beside the woman of his dreams.

He took a couple of deep breaths and promised himself not to let his mind wander as he entered her bedroom again, equal parts nervous, concerned, and secretly – despite his efforts and guilt – excited.

Olivia closely watched his bare arms as they approached the bed's vacant side, but chuckled when a bit of the cold pants fabric brushed her ankle as he hesitantly settled in. She noticed that his motions were robotic and unsure as if he was scared to make a mistake.

He looked down at the resting woman as he remained sitting up. "What is it?"

"Silk pajamas, Counselor? Really?" Her voice possessed some remnants of her earlier crying, and the neck bruising was the worst it had ever been, but she was appreciative of the brief break which gave her some time to get herself together. At least a little bit.

Rafael blushed but grinned right back. "I can almost see the clearance tag on yours.", he gently teased. His back rested against the headboard, still sitting up, because he was nervous to intrude on her sense of privacy.

"You don't like my Rudolph pants and my Santa hoodie?"

His grin widened. "It's June."

"Touche." Olivia rotated from her previous position on her back and turned to face him on her side. "At least mine are fuzzy, though."

He took the action as an invitation to do the same, and soon they were both facing each other. "Not as comfortable as mine." Their faces were a foot apart, both bodies lying under the duvet, but Rafael swore he could feel her heartbeat. Or maybe it was his own blood rushing into his ears. Either way, the intimacy was not lost on either party.

Under different circumstances, Olivia would have steered the conversation into something a little less innocent. But Olivia was mentally, emotionally, and physically worn out. Not to mention that the thought of sex was revolting to her right now. Part of her, however, was almost angry at the rest of her. For being unwilling to explore this situation. For being unwilling to be brave, for being unable to get over herself and her fears.

Olivia rotated her body so that she faced the window with her back to Rafael. She wearily whispered a gentle, "Goodnight, Rafa.", before letting her muscles relax as her mind worked hard to rid itself of the remaining demons.

Rafael wanted to wrap his arms around her in a protective embrace but thought against it. The temptation of letting his mind wander was already shamefully present and although he had a healthy sense of self-control, he doubted the recently assaulted woman wanted to wake up to morning wood pressed against her, anyway.

Her breathing evened out within the minute, and Rafael determined that she was asleep. Probably not for long, but some is better than nothing.

He leaned over to gently move a lock of hair out of her face, before settling onto his back. He made one last promise to himself: he would talk to her about his suspicions tomorrow. They gnawed at his soul and set fire to his chest, so he only managed to quell them by creating alternative answers. Some men counted sheep; some men tried to come up with any explanation other than the obvious as to why their best friend was begging for a man to get out of her. As to why she couldn't do anything other than protest that it hurt.

A guilty tear crawled down his features. "Goodnight, Liv."


	9. The Zoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After waking up and having breakfast, Olivia and Rafael and Noah all head out to spend a day at the zoo. First kiss!

**So one commenter mentioned that it is probably too soon for Olivia to kiss Rafael after her trauma. I am debating changing the chapter's plot a little. Might make edits, we'll see. Just be aware that I am aware. Thanks!**

* * *

"Mommy!" Rafael awoke to the feeling of a small toddler attempting to crawl onto the bed. "Mommy!"

Olivia slowly began to open her eyes, temporarily blinded by the sunlight, while Noah climbed over to lie on the other side of her and Rafael shifted in response to the interruption. Suddenly, both adults took inventory of their situation. Rafael must have moved in his sleep; his legs were semi-intertwined with hers in the center of the bed and his morning wood was firmly pressed into the side of her hip. They quickly moved without acknowledging the position, but both felt the boundaries of their platonic relationship become fuzzy.

They both sat up, farther apart than earlier but still close. "What is it, love?"

Noah decided to climb on top of his mother and sit on her lap. "We stayin' in today!"

"I know!" She smiled as his cheeks squished under her fingers. "No daycare for Mr. Noah today!"

His excited body jumped against her stomach, causing her to huff involuntarily. "What we go do?"

"How about...", her hand met her chin in a dramatic show of thinking, "the zoo?"

Noah turned to his favorite uncle in astonishment. "We go zoo, Rafa!"

Rafael, who watched their interaction joyfully from no more than a foot away, responded. "I heard!"

"You comin' wiff us?"

"Am I invited?" He looked at Olivia to indicate that, despite his high-pitched tone, the question was directed at her.

Before Olivia could answer, Noah interrupted as he slid off the bed and made his way out of the room "Of course, you 'vited, Uncle Rafa." The mischievous 3-year-old made it to the doorway before looking back at his mother. "Duh!"

"Noah!" Olivia threw back the duvet and stretched, ignoring Rafael's presence in her bed. "What did I tell you about saying "duh"? It sounds rude."

10 minutes later, both boys were having a hearty discussion about playground politics as Rafael got ready to prepare breakfast. Noah rocked in his stool at the breakfast bar, a bad habit Olivia had been working hard to discourage, while Olivia simply sat back and watched their interactions. She had been considering – daydreaming was probably the better word – about Rafael being a father-figure in her son's life for a while now, and so far, he was living up to the expectation and then some.

Rafael mixed the pancake batter and carefully poured it into the pan before adding the "booberries" that Noah had demanded and some of the chocolate chips that Olivia didn't yet know about. Only one thought resonated throughout his mind as he served the pajama-clad Bensons their breakfast.

_Every morning could be like this._

Instead of reprimanding himself like he knew he should, he contently waded through the vast possibilities and his fantasies of a life where this was the norm. He longed for a life where he could wake up next to Olivia and coddle Noah. He longed for a life where they were a real family, his wife and son. Mr. and Mrs. Barba.

But alas, his daydreams were exactly that: daydreams. The temporariness of this arrangement, his own fears, and Olivia's turmoil made their situation feel more like playing house than actually living the life he so desperately craved. When Olivia goes back to work in two weeks, his growing flame of hope would be surely snuffed out when they faced the reality of their professional situation. The mere thought of going back to the normal routine without these domestic pleasures made him feel like a plastic marionette in the hands of a cruel master, or the Tin Man without his oil. The cruel paradox trapped his metaphorical joints – the nearby stunning blow of reality will be worse if he lets himself become accustomed to these moments, but if he emotionally dissociates to protect his future self from disappointment, he may never get this opportunity at family ever again.

If Olivia noticed his sudden silence, she didn't mention it.

After swallowing one of his gluttonous forkfuls, Noah decided that he was bored with the lack of conversation."You and uncle Rafa sleep togever last night." The sentence wasn't a question, in fact, the boy was smiling although he surely didn't know the double meaning of his words.

Rafael almost choked on his coffee and fell into a brief coughing fit, which was probably for the better as it forced Olivia to respond instead.

"Oh um...", she looked at him for help but Rafael only grinned, "Yes, my love. I had a nightmare last night and Rafael helped me calm down so I could fall asleep. Just like how you had a bad dream last night, too."

Olivia glanced at her former bed-occupant once more, this time to see his assessment of her explanation. He nodded in approval but couldn't stop his grinning reaction to the subtle humor of the situation.

 _You did a good job_ , he told her with his smirking expression.

 _You could have helped_ , she jokingly responded with her signature pursed lips.

Noah remained unfazed by their nonverbal conversation. "You dream 'bout spidas too?"

Somehow, it felt like all the blood in her body rushed to her cheeks while she turned pale simultaneously. "Um...Yeah."

Noah resumed eating, happy with the answer. Soon after, both he and Olivia were on their way to get ready for the day. After applying more makeup than usual and picking out looser clothing, Olivia assessed herself in the mirror before going out to dress Noah.

Rafael, already dressed and filled with impulsivity, intercepted Olivia before she made it into Noah's room to help him change. He gently tapped her shoulder – still unsure of their physical boundaries – and she stopped her motions to turn slightly. "We need to talk." Even in the dim lighting of the windowless hallway, he saw her face drop automatically. "Don't worry, it can wait until after the zoo. I probably shouldn't have even brought it up right now. But we do need to talk. Soon."

"I know." She heard Noah call for assistance and tried to quell the rising anxiety. "Tonight."

* * *

The Central Park Zoo was crowded, but no more than any popular New York establishment would be. Small children and their parents twisted their way through the pathways and exhibits, stopping to look at a new animal every few minutes.

Noah leaned against the glass of each exhibit with unbridled curiosity, watching the animals or standing there until he was able to wrap his mind around why one enclosure would be empty. Once, at the bear enclosure, he became so scared that he ran back into the open arms of his mother, almost in tears. Rafael couldn't help but chuckle. The bear was peacefully eating its lunch in the corner, but that didn't seem to appease the boy.

When they finally arrived at the exhibit they had saved for last, "Pengin!" was all Noah was able to say – or, more accurately, shout multiple times – while Olivia adoringly stoked his excitement and Rafael sneakily took a few action shots with his cell phone. The boy was almost overloaded with happiness and Olivia couldn't stop smiling at his reactions to... well, everything.

Although there were some warning signs of trouble, like when one man innocently stood a little too close to Olivia and Rafael had to wedge himself between the two so the nervous woman could breathe again, the day was largely unimpeded by reminders of Joe or the looming threat of the awkward talk scheduled for later tonight.

They stopped for cotton candy after Rafael had purchased an obscenely overpriced penguin stuffed animal for Noah – he was paid back with the toddler equivalent of a bear hug on his leg – and now Olivia carried the boy while Rafael strolled the along pathways beside them. It felt so... right. To be here with them, like this, knowing that everybody else here would assume that they were together without a second thought. For the first time in a long time, Rafael could let down his guard. He belonged.

Noah quickly spotted a large dinosaur-shaped playground toy in the section meant for toddlers, and he was immediately intrigued.

"Payground?"

She observed the playground, a very small one with scalable plastic turtles and other animals designed for children Noah's age, before making a verdict. "Yes. Be careful, sweet boy. I'm going to be right over here." The second he was let down, he scampered off to climb the dinosaur.

Both adults settled into the small area on the other side of the turfed area where parents could watch their tykes explore the world while staying out of the way from foot traffic. Olivia turned to face Rafael but still kept her eye on her adventurous son. They stopped their previous conversation about Chief Dipshit to take it all in. The nice weather, the soft breeze that ruffled Liv's hair, and the families walking by that shared some resemblance to their own party of 3.

Olivia took a couple of breaths of the fresh air. It was the first time she had really been outside since the incident with Joe, but she quickly shook that thought out before it could develop into something more sinister. "We had a really nice day. I have a feeling that it'll be hard to convince Noah to go home with us."

_Home. With us._

Rafael was shocked out of his blissful Noah-watching and thrown into a world of hope. He tried to fight the pride and joy, just a little, but gave in to the overwhelming feelings that those mere three words evoked within him. Olivia, on the other hand, didn't notice her slip up, which somehow made it even more intimate and genuine to Rafael. She must have really meant it.

She eventually realized that her friend was simply...staring. His body was still aligned with the playground and Noah, but his eyes scanned her lips. She wondered what the hell he was doing, but only momentarily. The preoccupied man only noticed her reciprocated when she moved in to gently whisper, "Rafa?"

"Liv." It wasn't a statement, a question, or an acknowledgement. It was an invitation.

One that she was glad to accept. Her legs moved her closer to his body and she gently cupped his face with her nails. He reciprocating, leaning in slightly but letting her take the lead.

Any concerns that they were out in public were abandoned when he tasted the sugary remnants of the cotton candy in her kiss and felt a hot flash of warmth race down his body. Rafael pressed into his lower body deeper into hers while his right hand rested on her lower back and pulled her closer, savoring the moment. Her breasts pressed against his chest while they came to the surface for air and time came grinding to a halt as they examined each other's faces in more detail than ever before.

Suddenly, the previous promise that he made to himself rung in his ears like a blaring fire alarm. He pulled back, dropping his hands to her elbows, and took a couple of deep breaths.

"I'm sorry... I uh... I shouldn't have." Rafael, filled with shame, focused on the playground rather than the woman in front of him. He pulled back further. "I'm so sorry."

"What?" She knew there was no way she read the situation wrong, after all, he kissed her back with passionate desire. Olivia's mind raced with explanations. Her first thought was that maybe he was repulsed by the scars. Maybe he was just too fed up with her after 3 days because she put too much of her emotional burden onto him. Maybe it was her personality that pushed him away until she became too much to deal with and he just gave up. Olivia's warped perception of the world reminded her that she was unlovable. Again.

When he saw her tears, he assumed that she was angry with him, or betrayed. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of you right now... You're everything to me and..."

"Save me the bullshit and just be honest, Barba." Olivia looked at the ground, tears brimming at the edges of her chocolatey eyes. "I'd rather you just be up front with me than try to save my feelings."

"You are everything to me, Olivia, and I don't want to lose you."

"Lose me?"

"I want you, so badly. You have no idea. But I'm hesitant to compromise what we already have, especially if this whole arrangement is temporary. A taste of honey is worse than none at all." He saw the confused expression on her hurt face, so he elaborated. "Not only do I not want to take advantage of... the situation, what happens to us when your time off is up? Our jobs... we can't... How can I go back to my life, enlightened by the experience but knowing that I'll never be able to reach these highs again?"

She began to realize that he wasn't hesitating because of her, but rather the consequences their romantic involvement could have on their friendship. And their jobs. Olivia took a couple of deep breaths, pulling away from him and moving her hand up to her forehead in thought. It took a while for her to gather her thoughts, and more time to gather the courage to speak them, but Olivia was determined to speak her mind.

"I... I waited for the perfect time with Elliot. For the stars to align, you know?" She wiped away a stray tear. "I knew that if I... instigated things, he'd reciprocate. But even after his separation from Kathy, I waited. And waited. The perfect time never came, and his life kept on barreling forward while I was dead in the water. If you want to wait for everything to be nice and easy for us, you should know that'll never happen, Rafael. So you need to decide one way or the other. Either you are going to fight for... whatever this is, or you aren't."

Rafael took a moment to silently acknowledge that he understood how big of a deal it was for her to share that with him before he spoke. "I'd fight God barehanded if it would let me – let us – do this. But what if we can't work together anymore, what if they don't let us? You are...my...you mean so much to me, but you're my best friend first and I can't lose that. I can't lose being able to look forward to my job every day because I know you'll be there."

Olivia understood and nodded in agreement, but was already crafting solutions. "It won't be a risk if we disclose." She understood the doubtful look and continued. "If we are professional and don't let it get in the way of our jobs... It's a risk but it's one that I'm willing to take if you are."

He smiled, relieved and enthralled by the possibilities that sprung into his mind. "I'd jump off a bridge if you told me to, Benson." He leaned in again, holding her close, but postponed another kiss in favor of mentally cataloging this moment forever.

They were soon interrupted by the jubilant squeals of Noah. "Uncle Rafa!" Noah came running over from the playground and found his way into Rafael's arms. "Rafa, you not believe!"

Rafael stayed close to Olivia as he held her son in his arms. "Believe what, bud?"

"I found treasure!" Noah held up a plastic toy soldier, proud of his findings and hoping to elicit an amazed reaction from his two favorite adults. "See!"

"Woah!" The older man took the prized possession in his free hand so he could inspect it dramatically. "This is so valuable that we might have to let the IRS know."

The gentle sarcasm made Olivia grin while his upbeat tone and amazed grin exacerbated Noah's excitement. Mission accomplished.

The toy soldier was nice, but Rafael got the feeling that he just stumbled into something much more valuable.

_Family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Talk is the title of next chapter so don’t worry; they will talk about it although Olivia will struggle to admit what happened. I just wanted them to begin their relationship a bit so that they’d be more physically comfortable with one another and he’d be able to comfort her without being too preoccupied with boundaries and all that. They still will deal with that, of course, but I like it better this way. 
> 
> I probably am only going to write 2 or so more chapters, fyi, but we’ll see.


	10. The Talk

**So, some people had good thoughts/concerns about the kiss last chapter, and I've decided to keep it. However, they are totally right, so I've decided to have them talk/think about it a bit and voice the fact that there are significant hurtles with Olivia's trauma and they aren't going to be able to pursue the relationship right now (physically at least?). I hope this fixes some of those hesitations about the kiss! I still don't know whether this will be the last chapter or not, but I want more fluff and more Barson, so maybe I'll write a little more.**

**Also, I had a new idea for a work. It would be called "Calander Girl" (like the song) and each chapter would be a month. As the months went on, the Barson relationship would develop. Like January they are just friends and he proposes in December. Basically all holiday fluff. January = New Years, Feb = Valentine's day, March = ?, April = Easter w/ mrs. Barba, May = Mother's Day, etc. etc. Each holiday, their relationship would get a little more intimate and established. What do you guys think? I mean I should probably do some more of my prompted works first to be fair, but is it a good idea? It probably won't be on the top of my to-do list, though.**

* * *

After Noah padded off to his bedroom with his new stuffed animal for the second time – Olivia made it clear that she knew the glass of water he so desperately needed was just a ploy to postpone bedtime – and the two adults were alone again.

The sounds of the apartment were comprised of the street noise outside, with only a little sound coming from the almost muted television, as Rafael and Olivia sat on opposite ends of the couch. Both were exhausted, from the exercise of the zoo and the fright of the early morning nightmare, but neither one made any move to indicate it. The ambient yellow lighting would usually help lull the tired woman to sleep, but Olivia was wide awake in anticipation of their promised talk. And although dealing with the "r-word" would certainly be the main topic, there was a suffocating need to discuss their kiss first. Although the memory was pleasant, something about it ate at her soul and filled her with doubt.

Olivia took a deep breath that provided extraordinarily little oxygen and leaped into the unknown. "Rafa, about earlier..."

Her friend sat up in his seat and held his breath, praying he didn't make the wrong move or corrupt her levels of comfortability with him. That very possibility kept him fidgeting in the car ride home and made his mind race with doubt.

"I just... I don't regret the kiss and I'm glad we're finally being fully open with each other..." Olivia swallowed, and Rafael visibly exhaled in relief. "but... I need you to know that I can't exactly do... things... with you..."

Rafael leaned forwards to rest his elbows on his knees, so his face was level with hers bowed head even though they weren't looking at one another, and took a couple of seconds to assemble his thoughts.

"Liv, I never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Or, worse, feel like you have to do something that you don't want to do." He looked at the shag carpet, ashamed that his romantic impulses got the better of him. "But I need you to know that even earlier today, I knew there was no possibility for... anything more than that. I don't expect anything more right now. Or ever, if that's what you want. Friends first."

"Friends first." The right arm of the couch was slightly compressed as her elbow pressed against it and her head rested in her hands. "I want to explore... whatever this is. I'm just not sure I can right now."

"I completely understand, Liv." Rafael made no efforts to move closer, to punctuate the point that he really was okay with not pursuing any physical intimacy, but finally looked her in the eye as he spoke softly. "I know that navigating relationship territory is stressful, and you don't need any extra stress right now. I get it, and I agree."

"Maybe... maybe it would be okay to explore some emotional aspect of... this. But definitely nothing physical." She looked to gauge his reaction and prepare to apologize for the inconvenience out of habit, but he just nodded in agreement. He really did understand.

They sat in silence for a little longer. The atmosphere was an odd mixture of comfort – there was a level of relief in their newly established understanding of their relationship – and anxiety. Rafael fidgeted and pretended to inspect the cleanliness of his nails while Olivia was in too much of a contemplative trance to notice. Finally, the curious man leaned forward to clutch the remote and turn off the muted re-run of the original Wonder Woman. When, or if, this conversation would finally happen, he didn't want anything to diminish the seriousness of the moment.

Now that the apartment was only lit by the kitchen counter lights, Rafael got up to turn on the nightlights in the living room and a small palm-sized cube light on the coffee table while Olivia briefly thought about the thoughtfulness of his actions.

She impulsively, and unexpectedly, decided that it would be better for her to break the silence. "So, uh... we should talk about..."

Rafael, unaware of where to start or what to say, remained silent. His body language told Olivia that she could elaborate if she wished, but she wasn't sure where to begin. Olivia countered by staying quiet as well, motioning with her hand that he should ask away if he wanted any information. It was better this way, anyway, because at least she wouldn't reveal any information that if he wasn't already catching on to her shameful secret.

The humble man spoke softly and quietly after mentioning that she could pass on any of his questions if they hit too close to home. "Do you mind telling me what your nightmare was about?"

"Lewis, mostly. Joe at the end." She shook her head lightly to expel the memories, and Rafael cringed at his question choice. "I don't really want to go into details."

"That's okay." The silence returned more awkwardly than before. He pondered the pros and cons of pressing his real concern and came up with an inconclusive answer. Or, rather, many questions. Why was Olivia screaming for someone – who he now knew was Joe – to get "out" of her? PTSD nightmares could sometimes warp reality and create events that didn't really happen. Was this nightmare a memory or a fictional terror? He eventually decided to pry ever so gently, promising to let it go if she didn't answer.

Rafael's voice was laced with obvious hesitation. "You, uh... said some things. About Joe." He paused, for the millionth time, and let her absorb what he was implying before he actually got the courage to ask. "Did he... do things to you... in the nightmare?"

A small part of Olivia was relieved that they were only discussing the nightmare and not the real trauma, but a larger part almost wished that she could just say it. That she could just tell him. Instead, Olivia cowardly hid behind her rusted armor of pride, a rather cruel irony. She was reduced to head shakes.

Yes.

"Oh..." Rafael didn't know why he was surprised. After all, he had suspected her answer would be grim from the very moment he heard her terrified screams last night. Perhaps actually seeing her nod of confirmation had caused him to finally internalize every aspect of the situation around him. He was reluctantly and curiously beginning to move past his state of half-denial. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Olivia looked away, making eye contact with the glowing cube before her. A minute passed before she made any attempt to speak, and her voice was soft and quiet. "It hurt, Rafa. Like I was being torn apart." Tears crawled down her bare features and her voice started to crack. "I thought he was going to break my legs. I thought I was going to die."

Her eyes remained locked on the light as she subconsciously slightly turned her entire body to face Rafael.

"You know what the worst part was though?" she shook her head and leaned forward to bury her face in her hands, "I never got the chance to really fight him. I mean, I tried. But it didn't matter. He didn't stop. I just...I couldn't..."

Suddenly, she sat up and faced him without looking at his sympathetic features. Her words filled with venom, not necessarily at him but rather at her own demons.

"You have no idea what it's like to be ripped apart like that. To have your insides stretched beyond imagination while some piece of shit moans about how good it feels. To mourn a part of yourself and grieve for your own death even though your heart is still beating and you're still breathing. It's barbaric."

Her words were haunting, but an even darker revelation cast a shadow over his soul. He felt his chest clench and a wave of second-hand pain shot through his abdomen like a bullet to the soul. "You aren't talking about the nightmare anymore, are you?"

No, I'm not.

Rafael's voice was barely above a whisper as he moved a little closer, still careful not to intrude on her space. "Did he rape you?"

There it was. The r-word. He said it, asked it, and couldn't take it back. Olivia tried to open her mouth, but no sound would come out. Her bruised throat constricted, her emotions bubbled over the surface, and comprehensible speech became impossible once more. Rafael grew concerned – his fears were of a similar fashion to the way he was shocked in the early hours of this morning – and tried to break her out of the spell but it was too late.

Thoughts of Joe flooded her mind. She remembered his voice when he commanded her to take her bra off, and his member when he painfully thrusted hilt-deep inside of her. Olivia felt like she was in the ocean, knee-deep but drowning with no lifeguards in sight. She watched the height of the next swell build and build above her as her terror grew until it became a breaking wave that crushed her weakened body and turbulently pulled her under into a flashback.

* * *

_Her tied hands weakly tried to untie the knot flutily while Joe pushed down her pants to her ankles and forced her legs up so that he could have access without having to untie her bound feet. Oxygen was precious and hard to come by, so her body involuntarily refused to let her waste any energy especially when the outcome was guaranteed to be grim._

_The status of her pants – they were bunched around her ankles because 1) they were characteristically tight and 2) the zip ties prevented their full removal – required that Joe force her legs closer into her chest so that he could access her most sensitive flesh._

_He wasted no time in drawing anything out or making it about her – as Lewis surely would have – and Olivia was torn about what to think about his hurry. On one hand, it would be over quickly. However, his rush meant that the assault would occur in the next couple of seconds._

_There was one thought that Olivia clung to for sanity, despite her physical position. "I will not stop fighting."_

_She didn't stop fighting when he hooked his thumb around her panties to move them aside as his hands rested on her inner thigh. She didn't stop fighting when he freed his erection from its confines and pumped it to its full hardness. And she certainly didn't stop fighting when he aligned himself and pushed into her, bottoming out on the first stroke_.

* * *

The injured woman threw her head in her hands out of frustration and shame as her flashback retreated. The cushions shifted when her whole body started to lean towards her best friend and the quiet sobs shook Rafael's arms as he moved to support her.

Rafael never pitied Olivia, at least outwardly. Internally, the gears of his mind were clogged with all sorts of guilt, remorse, shame, and every other negative feeling in the dictionary. But anyone close to the proud woman knew that pitying her isn't a response she reacts well too. While refraining from any generic "I'm so sorry"s that she was sure to hate, Rafael simply held her. And held her. When the near-silent sobs didn't relent, he gently used his left hand to stroke her forehead while his right arm held her head against his chest.

"You're safe." Rafael continued stroking the side of her forehead as she moved to lay her head in his lap, her body still quaking from her adrenaline and suffocating emotions. "I've got you, Liv. I've got you."

His assurances faded into comfortingly unintelligible whispers and her silent wails faded into sniffles. Many minutes passed before either one said anything.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier", she sniffled again and further leaned into the pillow on his lap, "I just... you mean so much to me and I didn't want you to think... that... that you'd always have to look over your shoulder and make sure that I'm okay."

Rafael absorbed her words, glad that she was opening up to him but his heart clenched at the levels of shame in her voice.

Quickly realizing that this had a somewhat cathartic effect, Olivia continued. "I didn't want you to lose interest. Think that I'm too damaged to be with... to broken to want me..."

This time, he decided to speak up. "That's not true and won't ever be true." He punctuated each clause with the twiddling of his fingers around her stray strands of hair.

Olivia shut her eyes and began to softly cry again, but not before choking out another admission. "Brian didn't."

"What?"

"He didn't want me. After." Fresh tears formed and Olivia moved her arm underneath the pillow as she angled her face further into it. "He could barely even look at me when we had sex."

"Oh." Rafael cringed at his reaction, but he couldn't help it. He knew that she clearly wasn't ready to have sex in the period between the beach house and her breakup with Brian, which sparked fury deep within his chest. The man-child should have known better than to listen to a woman who was merely trying to prove to herself that she was fine. He should have told her she wasn't ready instead of sticking his dick in her. Brian not only had sex with a vulnerable woman but then continued to make her feel ashamed of her trauma scars. He couldn't help the "fucking bastard" that slipped out.

For some reason, Olivia felt the need to defend him. After all, he was somewhat helpful during her recovery and she did truly love him a little over two years ago. Apparently, their mutual feelings just weren't enough to sustain their relationship. "He wasn't all that bad. He tried his best, really, but Brian just wasn't ever that good with the vic-… SVU cases."

Rafael swallowed his anger and conceded a little. "I know he tried. But... I would have never..."

They both thought back to their conversation earlier in the night. "I know."

Silence ruled their domain once again, but it was a different kind of quiet. Not awkward or contemplative, but rather peacefully content. Well, at least Olivia was somewhat content. Rafael's mind was still brimming with questions and he was currently trying to pick which ones would be the best to ask, if he should even ask them at all.

Suddenly, his thoughts reverted to when he was Mr. Lawyer Man and he stopped playing with her hair for a moment. "What about the rape kit? It's the third day and it's been just over 72 hours." Although careful to leave out any traces of blame in his tone or words, he was shocked and somewhat panicked. When the time came to prosecute Joe, he wanted to have the most evidence at his disposal in order to crucify the bastard.

"I... uh..." Olivia didn't know what to say, so she just decided to rip the Band-Aid off. "I did get one. The other night. With Fin."

Rafael knew there was a logical reason behind her decision to keep him out of the loop but couldn't help but feel hurt at her decision to tell Fin and not him. Olivia sensed this and continued.

"Fin and I have a history with dealing with... a similar situation. A long time ago." His face was still masked with a stony stoicism to hide his hurting, but Olivia saw it soften slightly. "I couldn't tell you, Rafa. I just... it's all the things I said earlier but also... whenever one of these incidents happen, I always end up wrecking a relationship. Harris and Elliot, Lewis and Brian... I just didn't want to... you mean too much to me..."

He let her ramble for a few minutes, relieved and filled with a new understanding. It did, after all, make sense. They talked for another half-hour, calmly and without tears, while he maintained his ministrations on her forehead and hair. Eventually, the emotional and physical exhaustion got the better of both of them, and they began to feel the weariness of their eyelids. The soft lighting and comforting ambient noise from the street didn't help, either.

"Everything is beginning to sink in, you know? It's still fresh, it's only been 3 days, but I'm starting to... internalize things? I don't know how to explain it." Olivia felt the weight of her nonverbal admission – she never did articulate that she was raped but anybody could understand the meaning of her response earlier – become lighter and figured that maybe that had something to do with it. Confirming Barba's reaction to the news was calming, after all. "I'm tired to the bone, though."

Rafael was still in the dark about how to express his question. "Can you... uh... sleep by yourself or..."

He felt the weight of her head in his lap increase as she gently shifted. Olivia took a couple of seconds to respond as the waves of exhaustion – a perpetual feeling that had only been growing ever since the incident – were washing over her. "Right here is fine."

"Anything you want, Liv." Rafael gently stroked and fiddled with her hair as she fell into a light sleep. A nightmare would most likely rear its hideous head later in the evening, but for right now, they truly were fine. He whispered once more, "Anything."


	11. The Squad Part 1

**T** **his chapter is just a bridge of sorts into more interesting stuff like the prosecution** **.** **I’ve also gotten some great feedback that has requested for more healing** **. I know there isn’t anything like that in this chapter** **, but next chapter will be a short one about** **driving her to** **therapy and** **fluffy** **stuff. Nice and healing and not** **at all** **traumatic.**

**Please, please, please give me healing ideas because I have very little. Like ideas that deal with Rafael helping her heal** **with the trauma... idk how long I’m going to continue this** **anyway,** **but I** **owe** **it to one of the original prompters to include more post-injury healing fluff.**

* * *

Amanda leaned back in her desk chair – her maternity leave had ended in perfect timing – and glanced at her partner. He was dutifully working, like always, but there was an air of seriousness that corrupted their usual playful conversations and light flirtation. Occasionally, she would catch him looking towards Liv’s absent office. This momma’s boy was in “lieu” of a commander and it seemed to bother him. Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle at her pun, but the grin gradually faded as she watched Carisi lean further into the folder in front of him. 

If anyone else noticed, they didn’t mention it. In fact, there wasn’t anyone around to notice it in the first place. Liv was on mandatory two-week leave and Barba took the same amount of time off. Fin disappeared for large periods of time throughout the day or didn’t show up at all, while Dodds was busy learning the ropes of precinct command all by himself. 

When Carisi closed his file with a huff and immediately moved to type on his computer, Amanda decided that she had enough. “You alright over there?” 

“Yeah.” He continued typing. His tone wasn’t rude by a longshot, but it was obvious that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. 

She leaned a little closer and spoke softly. “Can you just... take a second?” 

This time, his “yeah” was a little more patient as he took a deep breath and sat back in his chair as well. The young man could feel the tightness in his chest somewhat dissipate, but his mind was no clearer. “What’s going on?” 

“You tell me.” Sensing that he wasn’t going to give in that easily, she elaborated. “Did you finish your incident report?” 

Each detective involved in the hostage situation, even though mere bystanders, had to write down their version of the events that took place four days ago. Needless to say, each man – Amanda wasn’t present at the scene – was moving at a vastly different pace. Chief Dodds was pleasantly surprised when Fin finished his own account almost immediately after receiving the form but shot the smart-ass detective a dirty look upon the realization that Fin took vague to a whole new level. Mike, who had been briefly inside the house, pretended to not notice the paper on his desk even though his father had been bugging him about it for the whole day now. After growing frustrated with the bullshit about “wrapping this all up and keeping it out of the press”, the short call ended spontaneously. Funny how that works sometimes. 

“Not quite.” Carisi felt guilty for the short responses, so he took another moment to continue. “The thought of writing makes me sick but so does the looming presence of having the report unfinished. Haven’t really done anything like this where Lieu is a... person involved.” 

The experienced blonde detective tried not to think of her own report after the Lewis kidnapping; the condition of the destroyed apartment and its horrid contents had to be documented in writing even though there were pictures. Amanda truly understood what he was thinking about as he wrote his account. “This is really getting to ya, huh?” 

“I know that it shouldn’t be. Maybe it’s just the fact that I found out about it first, or that I helped carry her out of the car, and talked to her in the hospital, but... now I responsible for how the case goes. Like I need to be in the loop. Besides...”, he matched her position and leaned in closer, lowering his voice, “Don’t you think there is something a little... off?” 

She felt it too but wanted to know exactly what he was thinking. They were both now speaking in near whispers to make up for the public setting of such a private conversation. “What do you mean?” 

“I called Lieu this morning, just to check in. I know that it’s none of my business... but I can’t help but notice that they’re hiding something from us.” 

Inferring that “they” referred to Barba as well as Liv, Amanda came upon another plausible and much more comforting conclusion. “It’s probably just them protecting the secrecy of the relationship. Publicizing it won’t exactly get them brownie points with the NYPD or the DA’s office, given their conflict of interest and all.” 

“I guess...” Carisi did not look convinced as he guilty glanced down at the crack between the two desks. Even just thinking about this made him uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he needed to talk to someone about it before he burst. “I was thinking more along the lines of the actual incident, though. Something’s been bugging me. Even in the hospital...” 

Since Amanda hadn’t really interacted with Liv since the townhouse, save for the short phone call a couple of nights ago, she didn’t really have a reference point to affirm or deny his observations. Instead, she wisely opted to take a logical approach even though the seed of concern was now planted in her mind as well. “If she is hiding something, you’ll find out when you need to know. Besides, Liv is a private person to begin with. She’s not going to be open about everything no matter how much we try to investigate.” 

“Speaking of investigating... that’s the other thing.” He sat back a little, as this part of the conversation was less intrusive, but still kept his voice quieter than normal out of respect for the sensitivity of the topic. “Is Barba prosecuting the case? Is there even a case to prosecute?” 

“I heard that Utley survived his injuries, but he isn’t stable. If the piece of shit lives, there is no way the DA is going to accept anything less than the maximum sentence for attempted murder and taking hostages especially since an officer was involved.” She took a second to think about it. “So, the case will probably go to court if Utley survives and doesn’t plead guilty. I don’t know who would prosecute it though. I’m not even sure that Barba can at this point, given... everything.” 

“Didn’t he prosecute Lewis?” Carisi’s voice lowered dramatically when referring to past events, but he figured it was an important question. 

Cringing at the use of that name, which was on an unspoken list of things not to bring up just like Patton and everybody’s childhood, she took another second to think. “Yeah, he did, but this is different. If they are really together, it would be a massive violation of ethics to prosecute her case. But... he is the best equipped to handle it... it all depends on the status of their relationship, honestly. Or at least what the DA knows about it.” 

“I think he should.” Given that one of his mentors was injured and wronged, it only made sense that the other one took the case. “Barba’s a great lawyer and Liv will be most comfortable with him at the table rather than some inexperienced stranger.” 

“I agree.” Amanda matched his earlier huff of frustration and forcefully sat back in her chair. The whole situation was shitty, but Liv already dealt with her fair share of trauma. Maybe she should call her again, that last conversation went better than expected despite its rocky start. “We can call her later tonight, if you want.” 

“What time should I come over? The lasagna will take about an hour and a half to make.” 

Without thinking, Amanda extended her offer. “Want to just go straight from work?” 

Carisi looked down in a futile attempt to hide his smile. His partner showed no signs of serious romantic interest yet, but things were getting more domestic by the minute. Either he was getting closer to her or being ultra-friend zoned, but he decided to focus on the positive. “That sounds great.” 

* * *

Fin took a long sip of his beer and wished he was in Baltimore. A rather odd thought, given that nobody ever actually wants to be in Baltimore. Secretly, he ached to see his partner. Not his current one, mind you, but his real partner. His best friend. His mentor. Munch. 

Fin’s throat burned from the sting of the alcohol as he shut off his phone; the hour-long call with the ex-detective just concluded with a nostalgic goodbye. Even though they talked about all sorts of things – from playful jabs to a serious conversation about John’s new love interest – the urge to talk about Liv was overwhelming. Even though John surely sensed this uneasiness, Fin was grateful that the “wise old man” chose to distract his friend rather than explore the unknown stressor. Given the opportunity, Fin wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be able to keep this secret for much longer. 

Swearing to never betray her trust, he largely kept to himself ever since the rape kit. Rotating between the bar, the precinct, and his apartment was growing old rather quickly. Sleep was elusive at best and impossible at worst. Nightmares about being in the car with Liv, but never being able to protect her, shocked him out of whatever trance he was able to maintain. The unfounded guilt ate him up from the inside. 

Maybe he gave therapy a bad rap. Whatever. Sam Adams works just fine, too. 

Now he found his finger hovering over the call button next to Cragen’s contact for the fourth time since he heard Liv reply “Yes” to one of the nurse’s questions. Since he heard her admit that she was violently raped. It haunted him. 

Once again, he couldn’t manage to call his old Captain. To admit that he failed her. Fin turned his phone off and put it face down on the bar before signaling for another round. 

It was going to be a long night. 

* * *

**Don’t worry, Fin won’t be falling into any alcohol hole or anything. It’s just how I imagined he would deal with some of the guilt (even though he didn’t do anything wrong).** **Plus, I was kind of teasing an idea I had about Fin talking to Cragen and maybe spilling some details since he’s been under pressure (because of himself and his own guilt and everything)?** **I just hate it when people forget about the old squad...**

**Like I said, healing is coming I promise!**


	12. Therapy

**BOOOORING. Sorry. But it kinda had to be included. If you like this view inside her head (in a different perspective than usual), maybe I'll write part 2 or another one later to show her progress. I liked writing this (a chapter of mostly dialouge is a breeze but it was interesting to see where it took me), and I hoped you liked reading it.**

* * *

**Day 4 Post-Incident: Therapy**

While Amanda and Carisi were discussing their theories about the case, Rafael and Olivia were about to deal with the aftermath as they drove to Dr. Lindstrom's office. The car bounced with each pothole it hit and Noah laughed hysterically each time his toddler car seat jolted. Olivia glanced sideways at Rafael, who was grinning from ear to ear, and could swear the man was purposely swerving, just a little, to hit the holes.

Originally, Olivia felt guilty for dragging Noah along, but she soon found that she couldn't bear to have him out of reach. Besides, Rafael – who insisted that he stay the whole time if she was comfortable with the arrangement – would be an adequate playmate in the waiting room.

When they finally arrived – Rafael took another route, "coincidentally" one that was infamously neglected by the Department of Transportation – Olivia approached the receptionist 15 minutes before her appointment was scheduled. After checking-in, she sat down beside her son and took some Paw Patrol figures from her purse and placed them onto the waiting room bench for her son to play with.

Unfortunately, they didn't quite meet the demands of "King Noah", who wanted his PJ Masks toys instead. Before the tears could well in his eyes, to match his pouting expression, Rafael soothed the boy by dramatically pretending to be interested in playing with Chase and Rubble. Olivia watched as this immediately calmed Noah, who began to playfully but possessively explain that only he could play as Chase. Rafael waved his hands in dramatic motions through the air to give the impression that Sky was flying while Noah matched his position and stretched his own hands out to mimic an airplane.

Her adoring observations were interrupted when a door opened with a small creak. Dr. Lindstrom emerged from the back of the office and called for Olivia, who reluctantly left her son and Rafael with a wave.

* * *

Lindstrom turned in this chair to pick up the empty yellow notepad on the table beside him. Now that Olivia had formed him in on the situation, vaguely and robotically, the real "shrinking" was about to begin.

He leaned forward in the chair and made eye contact. "How are you feeling, Olivia?"

Olivia scoffed. "That's a loaded question." She crossed her legs and inspected her fingernails. "I just... um... I'm okay right now."

He audibly scribbled on the notepad, but only briefly. "Can you pick out some things that make you okay right now? Maybe Noah?"

"He definitely helps. I felt bad for taking him down here, but I guess I'm just having some separation anxiety. He doesn't seem to mind, anyway."

"What are some other factors?"

Olivia chipped some pale nail polish off the corner of one nail. "My... coworker, Rafael. He's staying with me for a little while until I go back to work."

"And I assume that he is the man in the waiting room? You've told me a lot about him."

"Yeah...", she continued twiddling her fingers and inspected the reflection on the porcelain vase on the coffee table, "I was a little concerned that having somebody I know so close to these sessions would be... well... intimidating. But actually... I'm feeling better. Knowing that my son and my best friend are out there waiting for me."

"I guess you could say that Rafael makes you feel safe?" Lindstrom raised his eyebrows to signal that this was in fact a question, but Olivia was too busy looking at the carpet to notice.

"I don't think I ever feel "safe", really, except when I get lost in the happy moments. But I don't think that really counts. Rafael makes me feel _safer_ , though." She momentarily glanced up at her therapist, who merely motioned for her to elaborate. "At first, I just chalked it up to having someone I trust in the apartment with me, but even Brian didn't... it wasn't the same... Rafael's just so... understanding? I don't know how to put it in words."

He once again took some time to jot down notes. "Understanding? So you have discussed some of the recent events with him?"

"I have." Once again, he motioned for her to continue. "Vaguely. He knows I was...um..."

"Raped," Lindstrom spoke softly, but he noticed Olivia's cringe at the use of that word. "I see you avoid that word. Can you tell me why?"

"I haven't actually said it. You know, the whole sentence. I mean, I've communicated it, just not in so many words." She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly. "It's just that... saying that makes it so... final. So real."

More notes. "I see. Olivia, would you like some advice?"

She chuckled kindly. "That's what I'm paying you for."

"Rafael seems to be a positive influence in a time where you are going to need a lot of friends. You can't build a skyscraper without the steal support beams. I know that letting people in can be a challenge when so many others have let you down, and I don't expect a miracle. But maybe you and I should start working together on getting you to a point where you can fully accept help. Even if it is just from one person."

"I... uh... that sounds good. I've actually already been doing a pretty good job with that. Rafael and I had a conversation last night about... it. I fell asleep on his lap, and the other night he helped me back to sleep after a nightmare."

"Is there anybody else? Someone else that you can talk to?"

"Yeah, actually. Fin went with me when I got the kit. I can trust him. And Amanda called the other night. I was pretty short with her at first, but I know she's just trying to help. Things with Patton were... a wreck, at best, so I know that we... uh... have some things in common."

"We've talked about some of the things she's said to you in the past. Do those things still bother you?"

"Yeah..." Olivia sat back, her body pressed in the corner between the back of the couch and the armrest. Her eyes never left the box of tissues on the wooden coffee table. "I think about what she said about therapy all the time. About how at least she doesn't need to pay someone to listen to her feelings. I know Amanda was hurting and she apologized profusely, so I really do understand. Our relationship has improved a lot since then. But... I just... I..."

"It's okay, Olivia. Take your time."

The emotionally weary woman closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths. "I don't mention you anymore. This. And it's not only that I don't want them to think I'm weak, which is a large part of the problem, but I don't want to... need this. I don't want to need to have to pay someone to listen to my feelings. But I do." Olivia felt tears welling in her eyes but wiped them away before they could fall. "I need it."

"How does that make you feel to go to therapy? To talk about scheduling and going to appointments with others?" Even though Lindstrom knew the answer, it was important to have Olivia voice these concerns and acknowledge her feelings verbally.

"It's embarrassing. Even though I know it shouldn't be. I just don't talk about therapy anymore, but I think they all know where I'm going every Friday."

"We've talked at great length about how people perceive you. Or at least what you think they think. Does going to therapy, or even accepting help from another person, still make you feel weak to the same extent as when we started?"

"It's gotten better. You've helped." She sensed that he was silently asking for her to elaborate, so she swallowed and continued. "I know it's false, but I don't feel like I have a lot... um... things going for me right now. I'm a good mother, but my job is inherently demanding and sometimes I feel like I'm... failing Noah. My body isn't the same as it used to be, as shallow as that sounds. I just... sometimes I fall back on my reputation as a comfort. I have a support system, a great one, and I know that. But when... when something happens that makes me look like I'm not the Badass Benson I used to be... it feels like who I am as a person is falling apart. That's who I am. It feels like that's all I am, sometimes. It hurts to admit that I need help, still, but at least I'm aware that some of these fears are fallacious."

Olivia sat up to reach for a tissue and dabbed her face, careful not to smudge her concealing makeup, and took a couple of minutes to pull herself together while Lindstrom took the opportunity to take some notes.

Finally, he spoke up. "I know that you know what I'm about to say. You know the content of my lecture already, and you know it's true. So, I'll keep it short. Getting help, understanding that you need it, is not a sign of weakness. Quite the opposite. You've seen victims that fall into these holes of depression. Of alcoholism. Drugs. Promiscuity. You had so many options, so many vices to chose from. But you've decided to take up therapy and are all the more admirable for it."

Olivia nodded in acknowledgement. "I know."

Lindstrom accepted her answer but wasn't quite done. "How do you treat a broken leg?"

"What?"

"How would you treat a broken leg?"

"Um... put it in a cast. Rest? I don't really know."

"That's right. You'd give it the support of a cast. You'd let it rest, recover, and grow strong again. You wouldn't walk on it or force it to bear unnecessary weight. Would you be embarrassed or mad at yourself because your leg needs those aids to heal?"

She almost scoffed at the silly question but was growing curious as to where this was going. "No..."

"So why are you doing the same with your mental health?"

"I... wow. I don't know."

"I want you to remember this next time you are embarrassed by therapy. Or needing support. You have suffered unimaginable traumas, and now you need aid. That's okay." He checked that the message was really sinking in, then digressed unexpectedly. "There is another thing I want you to remember. Sometimes, when we act embarrassed, it makes others act like the action or the admission was embarrassing. This happens subconsciously. You see this in awkward conversations, too. When one party acknowledges the awkwardness and acts accordingly, the other will match. Soon you're sitting silently in a room instead of having the productive conversation that would have followed a carefree attitude. When you act embarrassed of therapy, of needing help, and try to hide it, you make a bigger deal of the situation than anybody else would have anyway. When they say that confidence is key, they mean it. We've both watched people do and say stupid things but their confidence, their ability to laugh it off, erased any unease in others. Remember that next time you feel self-conscious."

"I will."

"That's good, Olivia. Let's set some goals, shall we?" He saw her nod of confirmation, so he confidently continued. "Baby steps, of course. Do you think you could tell someone close to you what happened? To say the words that you have been avoiding? No need to elaborate or provide detail. Just to admit to yourself, and then to another person, what happened?"

"I guess... I'm not sure I'm ready to do that right now. Actually, I think I could say it to Rafael. But... I don't want to ruin the... normalcy of whatever is going on out there. Normal isn't the right word, I guess, because this isn't normal... I meant... the happiness. All three of us are so... the dynamic is just... happy. " Olivia glanced over at the door to further reference the resonating giggles that could be still be heard occasionally, and a small smile graced her tearful features.

"Acknowledging your limitations is just as important as actually achieving these goals. But I must ask, besides fears of ruining the moment, is any part of you hesitating because you don't want to admit it to yourself or you don't want to admit it to someone else? Maybe both?"

"I... I know that I need to go through a process to recover, and it's going to be hard. But once I say those words... the trauma is so... real. Like the race is starting and now I have no other choice but to trudge forward. I just... I was able to pretend the other day that everything was fine. Even for just a couple of hours. I don't want to start... dealing with everything. That sounds so pathetic, I know-"

"It's not pathetic, Olivia." He placed the tissues on the coffee table in front of Olivia – who was sitting on the edge of the couch – in preparation for diving into such a sensitive topic. "You have been through a lot in a short time period. You don't give yourself enough credit."

She politely smiled, a little, knowing that he was right. "I know, I know."

He paused, his pen hovering over the paper. "Can I ask you something, Olivia?"

Her body tensed at the anticipation of a personal question. "Yeah..."

"Have you been thinking about Lewis more or less often lately?"

"I...um... more." She leaned forward and put her hands in her head, an action that Lindstrom recognized as her way of admitting or processing traumatic information without having to make eye contact with the listener. "I thought that he'd fade out, to be honest. But... it's just so weird..."

"What is weird?"

"My nightmare was mostly Lewis. Joe was there too, at the end. But I don't understand, really, why Lewis is the most prominent in my flashbacks and thoughts. I figured that the blending, which I've experienced before, was just a byproduct of being the... victim," she took a moment to let her "new" label sink in, "of multiple traumas. I just don't understand why Lewis is still the main focus of my PTSD. Not like Joe would be any better but... It feels like... Lewis..." Olivia shook her head, was still in her hands, and felt tears fall as her voice cracked. "I just can't get rid of him."

"The kidnapping, the assaults, the torture... it was a horrific experience, Olivia."

"So was being raped", she shot back with venom. Her own tone shocked her, but Lindstrom was unfazed. After apologizing, Olivia sat back in a new contemplative state.

"You're right. I'm not saying that one was worse or better than the other. They were both horrible. But this new trauma is just that. New. It's only day four after everything, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Four days is not a lot of time. We've already discussed that you are still partially in denial, which is understandable and perfectly normal, but that means that the trauma hasn't had any time to sink in like the Lewis incidents have."

"That uh, that makes sense." Olivia paused to think and to formulate exactly how she could convey her feelings into words. It was like identifying nouns in an abstract painting that was constantly evolving. "I just... hoped – and this sounds so... wrong – but I almost hoped that Joe would push Lewis to the side. That I'd struggle to recover, but I would. I'd get to end things with Joe the way I want to end them. My rules, not his. I'd get closure, and I'd move on eventually. But now... now I'm just thinking about how hard it's going to be, how hard it is, to deal with both traumas at once."

Linstrom did not comment and chose to let her monologue.

"I see Lewis, still. In my dreams, my flashbacks, my body. What am I going to do when I start seeing both of them? When I have to try and recover from two separate traumas at once?"

"Like I said before, Olivia, you don't give yourself enough credit. You've been making progress in therapy with Lewis, and now you are going to start making progress with Utley, eventually. It won't be overnight, and it won't be easy. But I know you, Olivia. Or at least I know enough to know that you will survive this."

Olivia blushed at the semi-complement, but maybe it was just a residual effect of the building adrenaline from thinking about both men. "I know. I will."

Lindstrom looked at the clock and his eyes widened. He must have forgotten to set the timer because they had run 15 minutes over. "We're going to have to wrap things up, Olivia, but I'm happy that you've been open with me."

"When should I schedule my next appointment?"

Happy that Olivia was eager to accept the benefits of therapy, he quickly responded. "This was an emergency appointment, which means that your normal schedule is still intact. Your next appointment will be in three days, but you can cancel or change that. We do need to talk about increasing your number of appointments. Once a week probably isn't going to be enough in these first few weeks. "

"I agree. I'd like to keep my original appointment, actually."

"I'll see you in three days."

"Three days." Olivia rose, after fixing her makeup in the mirror to the right, and said her goodbyes while exiting the office and entering the waiting room.

Noah, who must have been tired out from his hour-long playdate with Uncle Rafa, was resting against the older man's chest while lazily watching cartoons on the iPad in Rafael's hands. Olivia felt a new sense of confidence in her ability to go three days until her next session. After all, she had Noah and Rafael – not to mention the rest of the squad – by her side.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Sonny and Amanda will call later when they get back to the apartment, and I might use a suggestion in which Sonny (and Amanda?) comes over to watch Noah while Olivia and Rafael go someplace. Or maybe that, but Amanda brings Jesse over to play? Idk. But Sonny will for sure talk to Rafael about the prosecution (privately of course). I am still thinking about how to use some of your suggestions, and I will use most of them in the fluff coming up, I promise!**


	13. The Battery

**I also wanted to write some things that Rafael is discovering about a family-centered life, like how he has time to leisurely enjoy a silent walk with Olivia and Noah, etc. Still in the process of coming up with better ideas on that front but I like the premise. I'm still using all of your suggestions (or plan on using), so thank you! This kind of felt flat to me, but that's probably only because I didn't work hard to make my characters miserable, which is still pretty new to me.**

**THE NEXT CHAPTER IS WHEN AMANDA AND SONNY COME OVER (NIGHTTIME) and her reaction to finding out that Joe survived. Sorry but I didn't want to put it in this one, this is just Barson and Noah fluff only (plus a scare or two bc apparently Idk how to write happiness).**

* * *

**Day 4: The Battery**

Rafael, now aware of Olivia's entrance to the waiting room, pried one of his arms away from Noah's sleepy grasp so that he could start to clean up the array of toys scattered across the bench.

Olivia hurried over with a light tread. "No, no, I got it. Hopefully, he'll nap for a bit." She haphazardly stashed the Paw Patrol figures in her purse along with Noah's small iPad, all while gazing at the peaceful scene beside her. Careful not to excite the only half-resting toddler, their movements were gentle and fluid with very little excess noise.

Although the parking lot was only two blocks away, their walk to the car was slow – Olivia specifically instructed him to try to soothe Noah to sleep – and the lawyer thought that this was the first time in a long time that he had leisurely walked (strutting doesn't count) with no purpose. At first, it bothered him, as some unfamiliar things do, but he soon found comfort in their silent peace. The group moved out of the way and stayed close to the buildings as they passed, out of politeness to all the other New Yorkers who walked quickly, and Rafael found that he had time to look in all the shop windows. Despite his curiosity and slight disturbance at a bookstore promoting a display of their prized anthropodermic book, his eyes mainly focused on both of his companions. Noah's toddler-sized body curled into his chest as he set a steady rhythm, and Rafael couldn't help but smile when the boy's thumb subconsciously found his mouth. When Olivia frowned at the bad habit and bit her lip to prevent her automatic verbal correction, Rafael's chuckles caused Noah to open his eyes momentarily. Luckily, after assessing the situation and determining that he wasn't missing out on anything, he drifted back into a state of semi-sleep.

Olivia matched Rafael's speed but seemingly got closer and closer as they walked until their shoulders gently touched with each step. Mentally blaming the chilly breeze, she kept the contact when they stopped at a crosswalk and moved to gently rub Noah's back until they were signaled to cross. The half-dozen people gathered with them, however, began disrupting her casual peace with their innocently suffocating presence. As Olivia treaded over the white paint and asphalt, her breathing quickened with each well-dressed person that brushed past. Although her nerves largely resulted from not knowing what was behind her, Olivia refused to validate her paranoia by turning her head. Aware that her concerns were unfounded, and somewhat ashamed of them as a result, Olivia tried to calm down with breathing exercises as she moved closer into Rafael.

Not slow to notice these types of things, Rafael maneuvered closely behind her, enough so that she could feel protected but still somewhat beside her so that she could see him and her son. By the time they had crossed to the other side, her momentary fears were quelled.

Still, Rafael silently led her over to an uncrowded area near the closed outside section of a café. He still held her close and spoke softly. "Are you okay?" Even though he knew she didn't usually respond honestly to this question, he hoped that their newfound levels of trust might enable a deeper conversation.

Olivia caught her breath, luckily the adrenaline spike was small, before she responded. "I'm fine now. It was just...", she motioned to all the people walking the adjacent sidewalk, "I just have to remember to tell Lindstrom that close crowds could be a potential new trigger."

Still inquisitive, he kept his voice low as not to disturb Noah as they slowly approached the almost people-less parking garage. "When do you see him again?"

This time, her response was automatic without any trace of the previous scare. "Three days. Thursday."

He just nodded, but Olivia could almost hear the metal clank of the gears turning in his head. Besides, the dark solemnity of the garage, even on such a nice day, was ruining the overwhelmingly relieving sense of calm that she felt only moments earlier.

"Wait". Her counterpart stopped suddenly, concerned for her well-being. "Battery Park is only another block from here. Some fresh air might do us good."

Rafael sensed that there was something else to her random desire to go for a walk, but he agreed with the sentiment. As they reversed directions and headed out to retrace their steps, Rafael decided that Noah was now asleep enough that the little boy wouldn't be roused by their normal voices. The sounds of New York City, albeit a quiet and upscale section of the city, hadn't wakened him, anyway.

To spark a conversation – the concept of a peacefully quiet leisure walk was a new wonder, but he sensed that Olivia wanted to keep her mind off something – he stated the obvious. "It's a rather far commute to make weekly. Battery Park isn't too close to Manhattan."

Oh. So, they did know that she went to therapy every Friday, or at least he did. "Only thirty minutes." Olivia remembered what Lindstrom said about being embarrassed, so she played it off nonchalantly. "Like most therapists, he alternates between two offices. One here and one closer to my apartment. It just so happened that my emergency appointment was scheduled for one of the weekdays that he works here."

"I see." Rafael felt her move away, just by a few inches, but he couldn't help but speculate that his question was too sensitive.

Fortunately, Olivia sensed this. "It's just... sometimes physical contact is very comforting and sometimes... sometimes it feels like I need to just wrap myself up in my own little cocoon with a sign that says, "Do Not Touch" Recently it seems to flip like a switch with no in-between".

This didn't exactly make Rafael feel better about the situation, knowing that he caused her even the slightest discomfort because of his desire to be close to her sickened him, but he did regroup and move forward. "If... uh, you ever feel like you need time to be alone, just tell me. I'll never be offended, Liv."

She smiled and glanced out at the sparkling water. "I know." When she stopped to silently lead them over to the metal rails and watch the breezy swells, she almost warned Noah about touching the tiny amounts of exposed rust before she remembered that he was soundly sleeping. "I can carry him. I know he gets heavy to hold after a while."

Rafael took a moment to assess her offer. Either she was asking to be polite, or the growing ache of his muscles was a cover to ask for her son back. Deciding that it was safer to assume the latter, he gently transferred the resting toddler from his arms to hers. "It's really nice. When he... uh... leans against you like an overgrown baby."

Watching Barba stumble over his words was a rarity, one that she only saw when he navigated through unfamiliar territory, and she did not take it for granted. Feeling guilty for enjoying his uncertainty, she smiled and moved to hold her son closer. "It is." Noah's hair raised as she ran her hand through it. "One day my baby boy is going to be too big to pick up."

"You have a long time until then."

He smiled when her face glowed with mirth. "Says the man who'll be able to carry him when he's ten."

Rafael couldn't decide which implication of the sentence he should focus on. He could take it as a semi-compliment to his strength or could focus on the fact that Olivia planned on keeping him around for at least another 7 years. As friends or... something more? As he chastised himself for the selfish and misplaced thought, Olivia saw his features harden.

"You okay?" Her concerned look was replaced quickly with one of joy as his own face did the same.

Rafael took a moment to listen to the water softly slap against the brick. To watch Noah subconsciously wrap his adorably tiny hands around his mother's neck. To see the peacefulness of Olivia's features as the sun softly illuminated them from above. "I'm... perfect."

Before Olivia had the chance to respond – her head was brimming with clichés, after all, it was now or never if she wanted to be like those rom-com characters she loved in her teenage years – Noah stirred. The caring mother was torn between letting him rest and enjoying his lively presence, but he decided for her.

"Mommy?" His tired voice was adorable, even though his face scrunched up and his speech was muffled by his desire to be close to his mother.

She turned her body so that it was blocking the sun. "Yes, love?"

The new shade prompted the little boy's eyes to close on their own accord, even though Noah was reluctant to miss out on anything. "Where we?"

"We're taking a walk with Rafael."

"Playground?" His eyes opened a little wider.

"Not here, sweetheart. There will be one coming up, but right now we are just walking by the water. This park is a little different than Central Park." Olivia repositioned her body once more and pointed out towards the glistening swells and far-away cargo ships. Rafael laughed when Noah's eyes shot open to stare at the boats.

"Raffle?"

"I'm sorry?" Olivia moved to look Noah in the eye; she always liked to watch his mouth move to try and decipher what the boy meant. Usually, he fixed his speech on the second try, but, like all toddlers, sometimes he needed extra help for people to comprehend his meaning. "Can you try again love?"

"Where Raffle?" 

When she realized that he was referring to Rafael, Olivia barely laughed because she was too busy feeling her heart melt. The honey-warmth of her chest spread out to her arms as the cuteness of the situation overloaded her senses. Usually, Noah referred to him as "Uncle Rafa" or "Mista Barba", both of which were adorable in their own right, but this one took the cake.

"I'm right here, bud." Rafael was also grinning, but Olivia had a hard time making eye contact as he couldn't seem to take his eyes off the young boy.

"You pay wiff me again?"

"Of course!" Remembering that Olivia wanted Noah to practice learning in recreational settings and that Noah loved ships, Rafael had an idea. "But first...", he let the suspense build up in an overdramatic fashion, "you have to pass a test!"

Noah writhed in his mother's arms. "No!", he whined in an equally dramatic tone. After seeing that his friend wouldn't budge, the tired toddler decided to relent. "kay, I take test. Then we pay togever."

Olivia carefully passed the wiggling toddler back to Rafael, who immediately turned to face the water. "Hmmm... how many ships are there?"

"Big ships!"

"I know! They're so big!" Rafael pointed to each one and helped Noah count as he noticed Olivia trying to covertly take some photos. "One, two, three." they counted at the same time.

"Mommy! They got free ships!"

Olivia, put her phone away as she responded. "They have three ships? No way."

Rafael realized something just then: whenever Noah made a grammar or speech error that Olivia understood, she echoed it back to him in the form of a question so that he'd hear the correct version. Huh. He'd have to remember to do that.

"I pass test?"

"With flying colors, conejito!"

Noah maneuvered so that he could hit the older man's hand for a high-five. "What we pay now?

"What are we going to play now?", Rafael grinned as he expertly used Olivia's trick, "I don't know. It's up to you."

"We walk to playground," Noah paused to weigh his options carefully, "then you pay wiff me. Okay, Raffle?"

This time, Olivia cut in. "Let's check how far it is, then we'll go. We don't want to get lost." After pulling out her phone, and dismissing Noah's enthusiastic cry for video games, she turned to Rafael.

"It's about a fifteen-minute walk." Olivia put her phone in her back pocket instead of her purse, as she figured that she'd soon pull it out for pictures. The view of Rafael throwing Noah in the air, as per his request, confirmed that suspicion. She warned them to be careful before directing them towards the playground.

Their pace was slow, even slower than before, as Noah stopped to point at things along the path. Soon, Rafael added some light conversation. Olivia found that she didn't actually mind being a third wheel of sorts, because that only meant that she got to see her two favorite boys getting along. More than "getting along", actually. Their dynamic was friendly, educational, and caring. Despite his unfamiliarity with children and his initial hesitation, Rafael was quickly warming up to Noah and vice versa.

After taking a photo from behind of Rafael carrying Noah, she caught up with them just in time for a history lesson.

"Did you know that this place isn't actually called Battery Park anymore?" Rafael paused to watch Noah's head whip around, more enthusiastically than necessary, to form a no. "It's actually just called The Battery now, and Battery Park is actually a subway station."

"Why they call it park then?"

"I don't know."

Rafael was startled when Olivia approached from behind, chucking. "Mark your calender, Noah. Rafael Barba just admitted he doesn't know everything."

Coming from somebody else, he might have responded with a semi-offended sarcastic remark. But this was Olivia, and her joke had the perfect mixture of jest and exaggeration. "Yeah, Yeah," he said to Noah while waving her off, which the boy found much funnier than expected, "But guess what I do know?"

Noah jumped, or at least moved his body a little, in excitement. "What?"

"Guess what's under the water?"

"Fishes!"

"Well, yes, fish are there too. But the Hudson River also has tunnels."

"Tunnels! Like mole from 'credibles!"

"Like the mole from Incredibles!" Rafael was thankful that most of Noah's enthusiasm could be stoked by dramatic reactions and repeating what he just said because he had never seen The Incredibles. Or most children's movies, for that matter. Maybe he should watch some. For research, of course, and definitely not because he secretly loved happy endings.

"What it called?"

"The Holland Tunnel. You've been in it plenty of times, I bet."

"Plenty time. For sure."

"For sure," he echoed back.

Rafael, Noah, and Olivia continued walking. Their "fifteen-minute walk" turned out to be about double that, as Noah wanted to be let down so he could walk in between his two favorite adults. When he held both of their hands, Olivia got an idea.

"Hold on to us, and when we count to three, you jump."

Noah gave his mother a quizzical look but obeyed his instructions out of curiosity. After the first swing, he fell in love with it.

"More! More!" Noah pulled on both of their hands by squatting and jumping, but Olivia and Rafael could only watch in amusement as he pleaded to fly again.

After many swings and multiple bouts of hysterical laughter, both adults were too tired to continue and decided to take a break. Noah was not happy with their decision – he started to pout immediately upon hearing, "We need a break, conejito!" – but was sated with the promise that the playground was coming up.

"Wow," Olivia huffed, catching her breath, "He really liked that."

"It looked like you loved it just as much as he did."

She hadn't done the swinging thing before. She'd seen it in some rom coms, and watched young couples do the same, but Olivia didn't have anyone to hold Noah on the other side. She didn't have a father figure for her son. She didn't have someone to balance her out. Until now. Sure, Carisi or Rollins might have volunteered, but only Rafael completed the puzzle. "I did. I loved it."

Sensing that she was talking to herself as much as she was talking to him, Rafael decided to stay quiet and enjoy the peace of walking together with Noah and Olivia.

When they finally arrived at their destination, at least fifteen minutes behind schedule, Noah let go of both hands.

"It red and blue, Raffle!" Noah turned to tell his mother the important color of the metal as well, blurring the picture that she just took. "Like Opimus!"

"That's right, love! Just like Optimus Prime!" Unfortunately, Noah had already started to run to the toddler-sized slide and didn't hear her confirmation.

Rafael and Olivia made their way over to the playground at a leisurely pace, giving Noah some space but also watching close enough to satisfy Olivia's overprotective tendencies.

"He likes Transformers?" Rafael made a mental note to pick up some toys to give to Noah. It's not like he needed to bribe for Noah's affections, but Rafael was secretly insecure about how much the toddler really liked him. The fierce lawyer wasn't a child-whisperer by far and was almost pathetically useless with Noah at first. In fact, he had once googled " _how to get a child to like you_ " in an attempt to impress Olivia but closed out the tab before he felt the resulting pathetic-ness. Now, though, he was forming a growing affection for the little boy.

"Yeah, especially Bumblebee" She twiddled her fingers while watching her son play by himself on the see-saw. "I think I'm going to get him a Transformers costume for Halloween."

"I think the more important question is what are you going to be?" If they were having this conversation under different circumstances, he might tease her about the thought of Olivia Benson in a sexy kitty outfit. Maybe a nurse. But, alas, this was no time to talk or tease about those topics. They had agreed to be friends first, especially now, and Rafael was determined to maintain that promise. "You could be... wait for it... a police officer."

Olivia audibly chucked. "I'd get points for the authenticity of the uniform." She maintained her focus on her son but tilted her head towards Rafael ever so slightly. "And what about you, Counselor?"

"I'd chose the easy way out. Just put some paint on a big piece of cardboard and draw some lines." Rafael's smile grew as Olivia looked confused; he knew that his shitty joke would be even worse now that there was a buildup. "I'd be a Raffle ticket."

Olivia turned to look at him as she laughed, and he felt a keen sense of accomplishment. "Ah, so you like your new name?"

"Mami would have a heart attack if she heard that Noah christened me as Mista Raffle Barbara."

She jokingly bumped into his shoulder. "You didn't answer the question, Counselor."

He felt his cheeks redden as he looked straight ahead. "Perhaps, Lieutenant." He found it adorable and they both knew it.

"Whatever you say." Olivia linked her free arm with his – this type of physical contact was great; Olivia felt as if she was touching rather than being touched and it was easy to pull away if her mood changed – and continued watching. "You're going to miss it when he's older, though."

Rafael decided not to press on the implication of his long-term presence after he decided that Olivia must not have noticed the full meaning of what she said. He watched Noah rush to claim the newly available swing by putting his hands on it and chuckled as the little boy looked around to make sure that no one else would take it. "Definitely."


	14. A Visit from Amanda and Sonny Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> absolute dumpster fire, next chapter will have the deep conversations and whatnot.

** SUUUUPER SHORT ** ** AND ** **__ ** **_ SHITTY _ ** ** BECAUSE IT’S MERELY A BRIDGE TO PART 2! ** **** (and I felt bad for not posting yesterday).

** Part 2 of this is where they  ** ** actually have ** ** a deep conversation about what happened (there are going to be multiple obstacles in prosecuting Joe, the first one will be revealed next chapter).  ** ** Later in the series, the second reveal will be super case-fucking btw, and I can’t wait!  ** ** Sorry this one was short, but I was so anxious to start writing part 2 that I skipped writing this for a bit and worked on next chapter (already a third of the way finished). This is just kind of filler, but I like i ** ** t  ** ** for the teasing and whatnot.  **

* * *

**Day 4: Olivia’s Apartment, 7 PM.**

Olivia, after dressing Noah, tidied up the living room in preparation for her sudden visitors. Amanda had called a couple of hours earlier, requesting to come over for dessert, and Olivia – who was eager to resume any sense of normalcy – accepted their self-invitation with open arms. However, Rafael and Liv didn’t know exactly why they had pressed the issue. Nevertheless, Rafael had started his mother’s favorite tres leches cake – they stopped for groceries on their way back from The Battery – and Olivia put away a multitude of toddler toys. 

An hour later, Amanda and Sonny shuffled into the apartment’s cramped entrance area with a small commotion. The new mother was grateful that the babysitter had pulled through at the last moment, but secretly missed her newborn. By the time she stopped thinking and removed her coat, everyone else had settled in and the delicious smell of cake wafted into the living room. 

Amanda sat down on the couch while her fellow visitor sat on floor near Noah’s toys, hoping that the hilarious toddler would come over and play. “What is Barba making?”, she asked curiously to break the small amount of what-do-we-talk-about tension. 

“We makin’ cake!” The sound of Noah’s exclamation rang through the apartment and Olivia issued a gentle warning to calm down. Eventually, Noah’s voice lowered as he unintelligibly explained the cake-making process from Olivia’s lap. 

“Woah,” Sonny said in exaggerated awe even though he only understood a couple of words, “That’s awesome. Did you help?” 

“He need my help breakin’ eggs.” Noah wriggled out of his mother’s grasp so he could stand on the couch and carefully observe Rafael cooking. “They show me how but I had get in baff cause I made a mess!” 

Olivia snatched her son and tickled him. “You made such a big mess! You got flour everywhere!” 

“Not my fault. Raffle clapped my hands togever and den you said that if your boys kept misbehavin’, then we not get to eat the cake!” 

Amanda and Sonny made eye contact and mischievously grinned at each other. When Sonny looked back and forth at the suspected couple and made an obscene gesture with his hands, Amanda made some chuckling noises that she couldn’t contain. When she finally lowered her hand, which was covering her mouth as she tried to hide her smirking, the blonde woman met the gaze of her boss. 

Olivia’s failed attempts to suppress her amused smile told Sonny that it was okay to lightly press the issue. “So... how long has Raffle been your boy?”, he teased, “Because I need to know who won our bet.” Despite his amusement, Sonny couldn’t look at Olivia for too long. He built another tower out of blocks instead of thinking about his boss’s scars. 

“I did,” Amanda immediately chimed in, the entertainment in her voice could be clearly heard. “I knew you had a thing for lawyers. Figured something would happen sooner rather than later.” 

Olivia blushed but couldn’t come up with a snarky rebuttal in time. After all, they were right. When Rafael dominated the court room with a powerful closing argument, she sat a little taller in her spectator seating. When the foreman read back a verdict of “guilty”, they stole proud glances across the courtroom, mentally congratulating each other for all their hard work. It was an efficient dynamic and a careful dance, like they were speaking a language that no one else understood. 

Olivia struggled to put her thoughts into words but needed to let the detectives know the status of their relationship. “We aren’t really... together. I mean, we are kind of, but... we’re on hold. It’s complicated.” 

Sonny sensed her brief vulnerability and decided not to explore it in favor of resuming their lighthearted banter. “Well, Lieu, if you wait until next year to make it official, I win the bet. So...” 

Amanda chuckled. “It’s not even August!” 

Olivia laughed, but secretly knew that it might take that long for the relationship to develop beyond the current status quo, if not longer. She felt peace, though, in the fact that Rafael expressed his unwavering approval at the arrangement. “Just out of curiosity, when did Fin predict... something would happen?” 

Sonny quickly responded. “He figured that you two were going to dance around your feelings for at least another two years.” 

“Yeah,” Amanda continued, “but he swore that if it took longer than that, he was going to either suffocate from the sexual tension or lock you both in a room together.” 

The thought of sex, and the vulnerability of having her private life inspected, was okay for a bit but was starting to encroach on her positive mood. So, she quickly changed the subject. “How is Jesse?” 

Amanda smiled warmly. “She’s about as good as any infant can be. It’ll be a long time before my sleep schedule goes back to normal, but she’s adorable.” 

Olivia felt Noah push on her shoulder – the boy was too well behaved to speak over the adults but desperately wanted to play with his new visitors – but didn’t turn to face Noah quite yet. “Speaking of kids...” 

“Hiiii mommy!” 

“Hi, Noah. What would you like, love?” 

“I pay wiff Uncle Keesy. I be Chase and he be Rubble!” 

Sonny looked to Olivia, confused. Before she could explain, Rafael casually cut in from the kitchen; his voice was steady and robotic as he focused on perfectly icing the cake. “He’s talking about his Paw Patrol figures in his toy chest. Chase is the German Shepard and Rubble is the one with the yellow vest.” 

Amanda turned to look at Sonny, but he was too busy removing the identified toys from the overcrowded bin. Unexpectedly, Olivia was surprised too. After all, Rafael had only spent a couple of days with the boy, but he already knew the characters of Noah’s favorite show by name and appearance. Olivia couldn’t help but smile at the thought that Rafael was taking the time to get to know her son and wasn’t just interested in only her. 

Rafael’s voice interrupted their collective thoughts. “Noah? Dessert is ready, conejito. Would you like to help me serve it?” 

“Yes!” Noah slid off the couch and ran over to Rafael while the older man wondered how the little boy could be this excited about something as trivial as cutting a cake. 

After all, everybody in the room was grateful for the chance to resume daily life, even if for only a couple of hours. 

* * *

**Day 4: Olivia’s Apartment, 8 PM.**

After all the excitement and commotion of tonight’s guests, Noah succumbed to exhaustion on the couch and Olivia took a picture of his awkward sleeping position. Internally grateful that their long bedtime routine could be overlooked just this once, Liv carefully laid the boy in his bed with a kiss. 

Now that the apartment was quiet and Noah was in bed, the original mission of their presence began to reappear in the minds of both detectives. They tried not to shift in their seats when Olivia came back into the living room, but the heavy topic weighed down the positive atmosphere. They were both well aware that their promise to Fin was not something to be taken lightly, but were hesitant to disrupt Olivia’s sense of peace. To make matters worse, the events of previous days were getting harder and harder for Sonny to repel, and he felt a keen sense of guilt for being so caught up on something that he shouldn’t be this bothered by. Amanda noticed this, though, and put her hand on his forearm. 

Luckily, it was Olivia herself that broke the ice. “Can I ask you guys something?” She waited for their nods of approval. “I don’t mean to be rude, and tonight was fun... but, uh, why were you guys so adamant about meeting tonight?” 

Amanda and Sonny exchanged glances, unaware of which one should talk first. Sonny took the lead this time and set his plate down on the coffee table. 

“We... uh... we need to talk. It’s about the case.” 


	15. A Visit From Amanda and Sonny Part 2

**I know you guys liked the fluff, but I kinda had to do this part for exposition. Plus, Olivia was just raped so, unfortunately, it's not all going to be sunshine and lollipops. But I will add a fluff chapter soon to lighten the mood! I was thinking of writing about just some casual domestic stuff.**

**Also, there are going to be many more obstacles in prosecuting Joe! This is just the first and pretty minor, but there is going to be a big one being revealed soon! As I said earlier, the interrogation chapter will have something that raises the exigence of her coming forward (and not canon for sure)! I'm not going to make it easy lol.**

* * *

**Day 4: Olivia's Apartment, 8:06 PM.**

Carisi's shoes tapped against the white tile of the kitchen while Amanda joined Olivia on the couch. Although his partner wanted to talk to them together, Sonny had added some content to the agenda and didn't want to discuss his new topics in front of Olivia.

Barba, now in business mode, began quickly in a hushed tone. "There are complications with the case? Already?"

"Yeah..." Carisi had trouble making eye contact with the lawyer as he explained today's revelations.

The lack of reciprocated eye contact didn't stop Barba from staring a hole in his skull. The man was almost steaming at the ears but tried to keep his anger for secrecy's sake.

"Damn it. Does Liv know?"

"Amanda should be telling her now."

The apron-clad man turned to observe the other conversation, which currently held no signs of distress. Clearly, the other detective wasn't in a hurry to cover ground and Olivia must not be aware yet.

Carisi explained. "Amanda wants to talk to Lieu about some other stuff first."

At first, the aggravated response only consisted of a loud huff of disapproval, but Barba was upset enough to rub it in. "You guys have been detectives for how long? What were you thinking?"

The young detective felt a pang of guilt in his midsection but calmly explained what happened until Barba's features partiallyrelaxed.

"It wasn't our fault, honestly. You know that. And Fin already chewed us out."

"It's still a problem."

"I know. That's why we're here. Fin wanted to have one of us let her know in person. I wanted to because she and I talked at the hospital, but Amanda overruled me before I even got the chance to volunteer. She was eager to talk to Olivia about something."

Secretly, Barba wished that Carisi was the one explaining it to Liv right now, but the young detective waved off Barba's obvious disgruntlement as simply personal bias.

Barba made a concentrated effort to return to lawyer mode. "The case isn't that damaged, luckily. There is still indisputable evidence that all three defendants took hostages, conspired to commit fraud and robbery, and one of them severely injured the father. That's enough for 15 years each, at the very least. And Utley will certainly get more as the ringleader."

Still, there was a sinking feeling in his chest. Like his heart was turning inside out and falling to the floor. Liv wouldn't get the justice she deserved, even if Joe got all those years.

"I know but... it's still not enough for what he did."

"Unless New York reinstates capital punishment, not even a life sentence will be enough for what he did." Barba's words were almost growls, and Carisi felt the familiar sense that he wasn't being let in on something. He had never seen his mentor this angry before.

Barba's anger only further proved his obvious conflict of interest, but Carisi couldn't help himself. This, to the young detective, was the priority if they were going to win the case. "This is just one of the many reasons you need to be the prosecutor."

Rafael's heart lurched. He couldn't exactly micromanage the case, and therefore ensure a harsh conviction, from spectator seating. After all, he ached to avenge his perceived failures with the Lewis trials by crucifying Joe. However, the DA would never allow this, especially if and when they found out about his relationship with Olivia. Giving Joe the chance to appeal was just as sickening as not being able to personally seek vengeance for her.

He felt trapped and sought a way out of this confining feeling. "Who is going to prosecute if I don't?"

"Burrel."

Barba shot his hand to his forehand and took a couple of deep breaths. "He's a bumbling idiot on a losing streak."

"Yeah, I know. But he's got more seniority than anyone and has pretty good connections. My guess is that he wants to get an easy win on a high-profile case like this to make up for what happened last year with the Terrely case."

"He butchered it." Rafael took another sip of his scotch to calm down, but it barely worked. "I can't let that happen to Olivia. Not again."

"I know."

"I'll find someone else. Someone who deserves their title. Maybe McCarrey?"

"Barba..."

"I know, I know." He started to pace the small space between the sink and the refrigerator. "I can try to convince the DA, but it isn't likely. Especially when they find out I've been practically living with her for the last week."

Ignoring the memories of the Lewis case – his preparation for which was the most stressful of his whole career and the aftermath still left him with lasting guilt – Barba made a mental reminder to call his boss tomorrow.

Emboldened by his victory, Carisi found the confidence he needed to ask his next burning question, even though he was certain that the answer wouldn't contain an ounce of truth. He at least needed to make Barba aware of his suspicions. "Maybe I'm paranoid, but... I'm getting the sense that there are larger forces at work. What's going on?"

Barba appreciated the soft tone, which implied that not answering was an option, but was put in an awkward position. Unlike Fin, he wasn't being suffocated by the secret. Instead, his whole focus went into protecting it. Even though he didn't necessarily support the decision of his clandestine friend, he was more than reluctant to betray her precious trust.

Still, he knew that completely lying to the detective, who was already on their trails, would just heighten his curiosity. "You're right. But I am telling you to leave it alone. She'll tell you, or she won't. Don't pry."

The thought of punctuating his point with a threatening message was tempting, but Carisi was an understanding man and a momma's boy that followed instructions. Besides, Barba secretly valued his relationship with the bright aspiring lawyer and didn't want to sour it. Not that he'd ever tell Carisi that, though.

"And you tell that to Rollins, too."

"I will. And we'll get his confession on Thursday when we bring him in for the interrogation."

_Fuuuuck._

Barba's mind raced with catastrophic possibilities as he imagined what Joe could unintentionally reveal. The drug addict would likely confess to the rape, unaware that the squad was in the dark about it. Despite his concerns, he knew he had to respond before Carisi could further his conspiracies about the true nature of Liv's coverup. He had to regain control of the potentially disastrous situation. "Thursday? I'll be there. And I hope you know better than to start without me."

"Lieu will want to be there, too. And I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

"It's not. But I don't think any of us will be able to stop her when she finds out."

The two men stood in awkward silence for a little longer until Olivia raised her voice and the two men glanced over at the other pair out of curiosity. Trying not to eavesdrop, Rafael decided to speak again while Olivia moved Rollins to the bedroom for added privacy. Neither man said anything about the move but silently communicated that things must be heating up.

With an audible promise to continue the tense interaction in her bedroom, Olivia moved to drop her untouched wineglass on the counter. Barba, a rather perceptive man, didn't miss Carisi's avoidance of eye contact with her. When both women had retreated to the privacy of the other room, he decided to pry.

"You've been a little off recently. What's going on?" The hardened lawyer saw the small grin on the younger man's face, and he felt the defensive need to excuse his concern. "Liv doesn't want any of her detectives below peak performance, especially since she's not there."

Sonny's amusement at Barba's obvious concern waned as his thoughts focused on the answer to the question. "I uh... I shouldn't say."

Barba didn't concede. He felt a new compulsion to know as much about the case as possible. Besides, as per recent revelations, it clearly needed to be micromanaged anyway. "Do you know something that I should know?"

"No." Sonny tapped his fingers on the countertop and looked out the window. "It's just that... I was the one to help her out of the car."

"Oh."

"Yeah." The floodgates were open, now, regardless of whether Carisi wanted them to be or not. He needed to tell someone. "It was so... odd. Seeing Lieu like that."

Rafael let him continue, sensing that the young man needed to get this out.

"She's always so... strong and private. I guess I just wasn't prepared to see her passed out and bloody. So... exposed and just not... how I normally see her."

Rafael's frustrated attitude did a 180. His voice and expression were now softer, as much as he could manage, because he understood where Sonny was coming from. After all, Sonny wasn't with the squad at the time she had been taken. No one really knew the full extent of the trauma, but Sonny was more in the dark than most. "Do they bother you?"

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the subject of the question were her scars. Her many, many scars. Even though her pants concealed her lower half, there was plenty of red and white tissue. Cigarette burns, sweeping cuts, and the rumored wire hanger all made their definitive mark on her body. The unknown sources, like the area on her arm that fell victim to gritty sandpaper or the little dips that marked the small bite of a nail clipper, were mysteries even to Rafael. Some were raised, some formed valleys. But they all stood out. Carisi might have had only a few seconds to observe her indecent upper half, but that was all he needed.

Sonny observed the traffic of the city through the clean glass of her kitchen window. His voice was almost a whisper because part of him was afraid that Olivia would hear that he was discussing her many marks. "I knew what happened, kind of. On a surface level. No one was exactly willing to talk about it, and I didn't really want to know, either. I just didn't know... all of that..."

"It's a lot."

"It is." He moved to empty his drink from earlier, consuming the red liquid all at once. "I already talked to her about it, though. Kind of. She knows I know."

Rafael suddenly had a deeper understanding of the issue. "She's not upset at you. It wasn't your fault. If anything, Liv's probably grateful for your discretion."

"Well..." Sonny motioned to the kitchen, implying that their conversation was in defiance of that trust.

"If you were going to tell anyone, I was your best bet anyway."

"Oh." Suddenly, Carisi remembered that Barba must have seen the pictures when he prosecuted Lewis. "I forgot that... you saw..."

"I did." Rafael, now more vulnerable than before, looked down at his hands. "Since the other members of the squad were testifying, they weren't allowed in court when I showed them to the jury. Cragen had access to them afterward but... he didn't want them."

Before Carisi could respond, Amanda's voice resonated throughout the apartment, calling for Barba.

Rafael's sorrowful features were invaded by concern, and more than a hint of his safeguarding nature, as he stopped leisurely leaning against the countertop. The worried and protective man raced into the bedroom without hesitation, leaving Carisi to figure out his place. Deciding to respect Olivia's privacy, he stayed in the kitchen and tried to distract himself.

The rest of their conversation would have to wait until another time.

* * *

**Day 4: Olivia's Apartment, 8:06 PM.**

After Rafael and Carisi moved to the kitchen, Amanda and Olivia were left to start their own conversation. The awkwardness permeated every syllable, but Amanda hoped that the rocky start would give way to a productive conversation like last time.

The blonde detective made sure she heard chatter coming from the kitchen before she approached the sensitive question, "So...", she moved to sit beside Olivia on the couch, "How is everything?"

Apparently, they weren't getting right down to business as Olivia had hoped.

The wine swirled in her glass, but rarely did she actually take a sip for fears of falling into that familiar trap. She hated to admit it, but the familiar smell of alcohol was nauseating, too. "Fine, I guess."

Amanda's question was an alternative form of "how are you?" and this did not go unnoticed. Her sharp-ish response was obviously not the answer she was looking for. In fact, the worst-case scenario was Olivia constructing walls faster than the squad could tear them down. And when it came to hiding things, the older woman was more experienced than Amanda realized.

Nevertheless, she continued gently. "I know that Fin called this afternoon and updated you about Joe." The shocked, then icy, stare of her boss was chilling but it didn't stop her. "I know that I shouldn't have eavesdropped, Liv. But in the spirit of honesty, I did hear some of what Fin told you."

Unfortunately, Liv tensed a little at the mention of Joe's name. Amanda wisely noted not to mention him again unless necessary, at least not by his first name. On the bright side, Liv did appreciate the honest approach.

"How are you doing with... that?"

Olivia looked at the younger woman. She remembered how vulnerable Amanda was after Patton, and how she pressed the detective to approach her if she needed anything. Perhaps Rollins was just trying to return the favor. The muscles in Liv's shoulders relaxed, slightly, and she took a deep breath. "Learning that he was alive and stable was... a shock, I guess. But at least this time, the evidence is indisputable. He'll rot in jail."

Amanda winced at "this time", but Liv didn't notice as she was too busy studying the coffee table. The older woman would do anything to avoid making eye contact and tried not to make it too obvious that she was semi-practicing one of her breathing exercises. Now, Amanda had a decision to make. She made Fin and Carisi promise that one of them would tell Liv in person, but now that she was face-to-face with the woman, she didn't know if this was the time or place. On one hand, not telling her would surely come back to bite her when Liv inevitably found out, but on the other, telling her would cause unnecessary stress. Carisi was likely telling Barba at this very moment, however, so Liv was sure to find out anyway. Besides, Amanda volunteered to be the one to have this conversation. She couldn't exactly back out now.

Olivia studied the woman beside her and immediately recognized Amanda's I'm-thinking-about-telling-the-truth face. "What is it? What do we need to talk about?"

Well, it wasn't much of a choice now. "Tess is denying that she was raped." Amanda let the news sink in before continuing. "Her brother refuses to talk to strangers and the mom wasn't there when it happened. We can only guess she was assaulted because of her adamant denial, but that won't exactly get us anywhere in court."

"She was." Olivia's whole face paled as the blood rushed to her chest. Her voice became firm but was still in hushed tones. "She was raped."

If the Lieutenant was honest with herself, she desperately wanted Joe to be convicted of rape. To be put in that special section of the prison. Even if Tess was the victim in his conviction, the satisfaction would be ineffable. Now, though, there was a strong chance that Joe's sentence, even as long as it may be, won't include a sex crime.

"We know. She refused to have someone accompany her while she got the rape kit, and we only found out this morning that she ran out-"

"Seriously? Making sure there is evidence is half your job, Rollins." Olivia felt guilty, she knew that it was not really the detective's fault but still needed a way to release her frustrations. "You could have called me. I would have talked to her. I wouldn't have fucked it up."

Amanda was all too familiar with lashing out at the people closest to her, so she let the comment slide off her without internalizing it too much. Still, there was a lingering sense of guilt.

Noticing that Sonny and Barba glanced over to their area, Olivia decided to move their conversation elsewhere. "Let's talk in my bedroom," she pointed to the closest door in the hallway, "I'll join you in second." The time it took to fold the blanket on her lap and dispose of her wine was a welcome relief and give her a couple of seconds to calm down. Finally, she walked into the lit bedroom.

She took a deep breath as she shut the door behind her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten angry at you like that. There's just a lot of stress right now. Can you just... explain what happened, please."

"Carisi and I escorted her into the room, but she was adamant that we leave. Her mother was there, too, and was horrified that we wanted to question her daughter so soon. We sat in the waiting room for at least an hour, but Dodds called us back because we caught a DV case a couple of blocks away. The nurse called us afterward and told us that the rape kit was being processed. We just... we assumed that everything went normally..."

The news upset Liv, but she wasn't irate. In fact, Amanda couldn't tell if dealing with this like it was any other case would be worse or better for the experienced Lieutenant's recovery. "What happened next?"

"We called to check in on the DNA results this morning. Apparently, Tess had pictures taken and answered some questions, but wouldn't let the nurses take swabs. They couldn't exactly force her to, but now we're having trouble proving the rape now that she denies it."

"What about Roxy?"

"She's not talking about what happened in the townhouse. Just keeps repeating that she had to help Joe because she owed him. We threatened her, we bribed her, we were kind... nothing worked."

Olivia sighed loudly. "Fuck."

"Yeah."

"If it makes you feel any better, Fin blew a gasket. He was angry at Carisi and I already, but then Roxy just... set him off. He didn't touch her or anything but... the whole precinct could hear his outrage." Amanda looked at the lamp and lowered her voice. "I've never seen him yell like that."

A rather large part of Olivia was grateful for his protective nature and angry approach, but she didn't show it. "He used to get carried away sometimes, especially at the more heinous cases. Nothing like my old partner, mind you, but Fin wasn't always cool-headed either. This one is just... it's a little bit close to home."

"Have you talked to him?"

"We talked a little on the phone the other day. Why?"

"We can't reach him." Amanda saw the shock on Liv's face and quickly realized how bad her previous sentence sounded. "Don't worry, though, I'm sure he'll show up eventually."

"He always does. If I call him, he'll answer." Olivia took a moment to think about how much this must have affected him, and suddenly felt guilty for how much she put on him. "I'll call him tonight. To make sure he's okay. Is... uh... is everyone else okay?"

"Dodds is doing a good job in command, and Fin is Fin. Carisi is shaken, but he's working hard to fill in the gaps."

"And you?"

Amanda rolled her eyes playfully. "You're trying to deflect."

Olivia responded with a sly smile. "So are you. If you get to ask questions, so do I."

"I'm good. Jesse is... wonderful. A ray of sunshine, really."

"And with everything that happened with... last year? I haven't asked you recently, but now that Barba and I are going to be out next week too, every cog needs to be in factory condition."

The blonde woman turned her head slightly and her smile disappeared. "This isn't about him, Liv."

"It doesn't need to be all about me either." Olivia made sure they made eye contact again before continuing. "I'm starting to feel like... some sort of attention whore. The squad isn't done helping you, Amanda. You know that, right?"

Amanda nodded. "I'm doing better, Liv. Really." She returned a genuine stare to show her honesty. "Besides, nobody thinks of you like that."

"Well... I'm not going to even bother arguing that."

"If I'm going to be honest, though, Liv..."

"Of course."

"A large part of my recovery was coming forward. Telling the truth. It was embarrassing at first, and I hated that everyone knew what happened with... him. I know I'll never be over it. I'll never be fully healed. But now... I don't feel the burden of the secret anymore. And since it's not a secret, it feels almost like last year was... last year. The past. I'm not always carrying it around with me anymore and now I can... I can separate my future from my past. What happened doesn't have to plague the present, and I learned that the hard way."

It took a few moments to gather her thoughts into words, and even then, she felt as if her words didn't capture her whole interpretation of the situation. Still, Olivia understood what she meant.

Even though she might not have noticed, Amanda wanted to crack the code of Olivia Benson. She yearned to be part of her trusted crew. Someone Olivia could trust; someone she could talk to. Unfortunately, the two women had clashed on multiple occasions and the younger one usually ended up on the bottom. And although Olivia outwardly forgave her – she truly did understand some of Amanda's reckless and self-destructive actions – there was a perceptible sense that Liv was still hesitant to place too much trust in the hands of an unpredictable force. The blonde detective would never admit it, but Olivia's distrust and disappointment were sources of shame that she carried everywhere, especially since the older woman served as a replacement mother-figure in a time when she needed the most guidance. Now that Amanda had mostly healed, it was time to return the favor if only Olivia would allow it.

Olivia understood that Amanda was advising her to tell the truth. Whether she was referring to Lewis or Joe, Olivia wasn't sure. Regardless, it wasn't going to be that simple. They both knew, deep down, that the proud Lieutenant wasn't going to budge unless she was forced to.

"I'm glad you've found closure, Amanda."

"So am I. But that wasn't all I was trying to say."

"I know."

The reality – Liv wasn't likely to talk about it honestly, or at least not while there was still another option – was beginning to sink in. "I know it's none of my business... I do. And I don't expect you to tell me anything beyond yes and no..."

"If I don't want to answer it, I won't. You can just ask."

"Does anyone know what happened with Lewis?" Amanda cringed at the use of his name, but tragically, the differentiation was necessary now beyond the male pronouns that they liked the use in place of names. "Like... what really happened?"

"That's private."

Olivia immediately felt guilty. Amanda had just shared an intimate aspect of her recovery, and now she had rejected the olive branch. Fuck.

"I'm sorry, Amanda. That was basically reflexive at this point." Olivia watched Amanda's hurt features soften into gratitude, which was relieving. "To answer the question... Lindstrom would know the most. But not even he really...um..."

Amanda decided to save her boss from floundering in vulnerability, especially when this was unknown territory between two women with a relationship only a little stronger than an eggshell. Luckily, they could both feel their trust, at least in these matters specifically, deepen with each sentence. "Oh."

Olivia looked over at the window. "Yeah."

Defying her desire to ask the same inquiry about Joe – she sensed that Olivia wanted to wrap this up before things got too sensitive – Amanda decided to get back to business. After all, there was still another topic to be approached. At least this wasn't bad news. Or so she thought.

"One more thing." She saw Liv tense. "We are bringing Utley in for interrogation on Thursday."

Olivia's mind raced with all the possibilities. How he might betray her secret, publicly and humiliatingly. Her face paled as she felt the blood pool in her chest once more. "That's only two days away."

"I know."

"I want to be there."

Amanda knew that objecting was futile, but she had to try. "Liv-"

"I'm going to be there." Olivia put her hand on her collarbone – a classic sign that she was frustrated and thinking – and paced. "I am."

"You know you can't go in there." Amanda stepped in front of her path, gently and cautiously, so she could hammer the point home. "You can't. It'll jeopardize the case."

Olivia only nodded absentmindedly; her mind was clearly no longer focused on the conversation.

"We can get the confession ourselves, Liv." Amanda stepped back, allowing her nervous counterpart to pace the room again. "Fin thinks that Utley will confess to Tess's rape. Especially since he doesn't know about her silence."

_Or mine. Shit! He's going to tell them. They're going to know it. I was raped and he's going to tell everyone. Fuck!_

"Liv. Liv?" Amanda moved to hold her shoulders and prepared for an anti-touch defense. None came, though. "Olivia!"

The older woman's hands were now clutching her hair as her elbows bent inward towards her chest. If the fetal position could be adapted into a standing form, this would be it. "I'm fine", she rasped, breathlessly and with venom.

Amanda dashed forward to help Olivia lean against the wall and supported her by the arms as she slid down to the floor. Her body hit the carpet with an ungraceful thud and her hands flew to grasp Amanda's arm, pulling her closer. After only a few moments, the panic subsided and Olivia soon regained control of her own thoughts.

"I'm fine," she whispered, now it was a comforting message to herself rather than a defensive one to others, "I'm okay."

"How can I help?" Amanda moved closer – Liv's hand on her upper arm was silent permission that physical contact was currently okay – and tried to look her in the eyes. Luckily, that thousand-yard-stare was mostly gone, now replaced with one of shock.

"I don't know what that was." Her heavy breath became regulated as her mind reclaimed control and she felt the need to assuage Amanda's concerns before she called for someone. "I'm okay now."

Now Amanda seemed to be more alarmed than Olivia was; the former was slightly panicked while the latter was already recovering from the unfamiliar incident.

She spoke between heavy breaths. "Seriously, Amanda. I'm okay." Still, the residual adrenaline shot through her veins and left a red-hot trace in her chest. Each heartbeat was deafeningly loud as it echoed in her own ears, and the bone-shaking nerves did not dissipate. "Just... uh, get Rafa please."

The unfamiliar and private nickname didn't faze Amanda as she called out for Barba. For some reason, she couldn't find the will to separate from Olivia. Even when Barba requested a few minutes alone with Liv, it was hard to leave her. Part of it was a guilt-laced sense of curiosity about what happened, but a much larger factor was the amount of pure concern for Olivia. Their relationship was just beginning to bandage itself, and just as a few days ago, the fear of Olivia's injuries permeated her mind once more. Additionally, the fact that her boss was usually stoic – almost annoyingly so – and well put-together around the detective made this anomaly stand out as far more worrying than it really was.

Amanda made her way out to the living room where she was greeted by Sonny. Unsure of what to do, or if they should even stay, she passed the time by sending a text to Fin.

Olivia was updated. She handled the news well. She wants to observe the interrogation on Thursday.

The small lie in the middle was not a source of hesitation and she quickly sent the text. After 10 minutes of waiting, Sonny hinted at his feelings of intrusion. After 15 minutes, she began to feel it too. After 30 minutes, they both sent an explanatory text to both Barba's and Liv's phones before silently gathering their coats and departing.

Although unable to see the other pair, and only able to marginally listen to them, they could both sense that there was an overall conjoining sense that united these four members of the squad.

"Well, fuck."


	16. Ready, Set, Go!

**Sorry it took a couple days to update and that its really short, but I'm currently working on a prompted work about Psycho/Therapist and the next chapter. This one was really just a bridge to better things. My plan for the next chapters is: talk with Tess (17), fluff with a brief incident but mainly fluff (17.5 or 18?), and the interrogation (19). I hope you like it!**

**The next chapter will be at least 4k words, I promise.**

* * *

**Day 4: Olivia's Apartment, 8:47 PM.**

"You're okay, Liv." He rocked her body gently, making rhythmic swaying motions from side to side as she sat between his legs. "You're safe."

Olivia didn't respond, instead opting to squeeze the strong arm that was draped across her waist. After a few calm moments, she gulped and prepared her voice to speak.

Still, her voice was soft. "I don't know what that was."

Rafael ignored the growing ache in his back – his spine was pushed back against the wall as Olivia leaned her whole upper body against his chest – in favor of doting over the woman he was holding. "A flashback?"

"No," she turned her head to rest it against his upper arm, "that wasn't it. It wasn't a panic attack either, or maybe it was a very short one."

"Do you want me to call Lindstrom?"

"Um... I don't think so." Olivia stilled for a second, mulling over her options. "I'm exhausted, and I don't really want to have my head shrunk right now."

Despite his faith in her decision-making, her unfamiliarity with the incident was concerning and it showed on his face.

She felt him tense. "I'll call him tomorrow, I promise."

This seemed to have a soothing effect on her worried friend, which allowed the tired woman to relax and refocus on her own dilemmas. The most recent incident – whatever it was – drained any energy that Olivia had left over from before the townhouse. She was running on fumes before but was certainly still functioning. Now, Olivia felt as if this symbolically marked the true beginning of her recovery, where every ounce of vigor would have to be fought for.

Although her face was not visible from his angle, he felt her arms tighten under his. "What's wrong?"

"I just..." Her head tilted back so she could smell the cologne on his neck, but despite its calming effect, her voice cracked when she spoke. "After the beach house, I didn't feel a grace period where it didn't feel... real. I think it was the pain. Maybe the scars and bruises. Everything and everyone made sure that I couldn't forget it. But this time... I guess it didn't feel as real as it does right now. Thirty minutes ago, I felt relatively safe. I could pretend that Joe never happened. Like he never touched me. I could push it to the back of my mind, at least sometimes. But the interrogation, the possibility of trial, Tess's reluctance... it's really happening. It really happened. And I'm just... I'm so tired, Rafa."

Rafael intuitively knew, and her words confirmed, that Olivia's recovery was passing a new landmark. Or, as she put it, the race was beginning. Her "grace period" of denial was ending, and Olivia was visibly shaken.

"You're going to survive this, Liv." He took her hand in his and squeezed gently. "You are."

The tears flowed before she could stop them, and her body shook against his. "But how much of me is going to be left?"

Rafael couldn't immediately think of a response or maneuver to a better position, so he opted to help her lean against his right arm like a pillow as she quietly sobbed. Her chest trembled and her hand tightened around his as her body slacked to the right. The crunching of the carpet as she moved, the periodic short breaths, and the occasional sniffle were the only sounds that were made.

He eventually found a way to phrase his carefully worded response. "You might not be the same person at the end of this. You might not feel whole. But at your center, the core of who you are as a person, is not going to changed by a piece of shit like him. You're going to get through this, and I'm going to hold your hand," he squeezed it for emphasis, "every step of the way."

Olivia opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out.

"We might have to crawl before we can run. We might even have to sit on the floor and let it all out," he paused to listen to Olivia's half-hearted chuckle, "before we can fly. But so help me God, Olivia, I'll make sure that man is in jail and you are soaring above cloud nine. Even if it takes a lifetime. And whatever part of you feels damaged or broken at the end of all this, we'll fix it together. Maybe even replace it with something better."

Olivia too surprised at the heartfelt message to keep crying, although she figured that maybe it wasn't so shocking after all. Rafael was a caring man on a mission to heal, and he made his intentions obvious from the beginning.

When her tears subsided, Rafael decided to gently redirect the situation. Or at least give her the option to.

"Do you want to stay like this for a while, or do you want me to help you get to bed?"

She chuckled lightly, but puffy eyes and their accompanying tears persisted. "I want to do both. And take a shower. But since I can't have my cake and eat it too... I'm going to take a shower first. Maybe it'll calm me down a bit. It might make it easier to fall asleep afterwards."

Rafael raised to his feet faster than she did – his legs tingled from being still and under pressure for so long – and took her arm to support her. "That sounds good."

He watched, uneasy, as Liv navigated the room to prepare for her shower. After she sluggishly approached the dresser, only to be frustrated when she couldn't find the right pajamas, Rafael stepped in. He refused to even think about describing her actions as defeated – he settled for "sluggish" – because they both knew that this was simply a brief hiatus from her strong demeanor. Tomorrow, or at least soon after that, her fierce personality would return with a hint of spite and a taste for justice. Olivia Benson was anything but defeated.

And, as Rafael properly understood, it was his job to make sure that she bounced back as soon and as strong as possible. "Tell me what you need. Anything you could possibly want, and every whim after that. I'll get it for you."

Olivia – hating her current childish temperament but was suddenly too bone-weary to stop herself – was ineffably grateful for his help. Wisely, though, Rafael didn't give her a choice. He just did it. And somehow, someway, this made it much easier for Olivia to accept – and even ask for – his aid.

She explained that she was getting a bath instead – a shower had more cleansing value, especially for a recent rape victim, but required the energy to stand and wasn't nearly as relaxing – and told him which type of pajamas she was looking for.

Rafael quickly found a fuzzy pair of pants, covered with many images of Santa Snoopy, and a sweatshirt with a large picture of a bee.

Olivia saw his quizzical look a let out a weak chuckle. "It's Barry B. Benson from the Bee Movie."

Rafael returned the smile. "I'll never understand why this is funny to you."

She laughed, but her expression of tiredness returned soon after.

"Go on, Liv. I'll be in the living room when you're done."

She looked back at him with gratitude, assured him that she was fine by herself, and slowly headed into the bathroom.

* * *

Olivia watched the porcelain tub fill with hot water and white bubbles. Although she never got bubble baths – the tube had a PJ Masks figure on the front to match the interests of its prime user – and wanted to scrub her body clean as she did earlier, but she simply didn't have the energy to do so. Right now, Liv wanted to rest, relax, and just... sit.

She sat in the warm water for a couple of minutes, lazily playing with the bubbles and threading the foamy clouds between her fingers. It had been a long time, at least a month since she had a relaxing bath or shower like this. She cleaned her body, but it wasn't scrubbed raw like before. She briefly thought of Joe and Lewis, but her mind was too tired to release those evils upon itself. Her mind couldn't even focus on the embarrassment of breaking down in front of Amanda, at least not yet. It was peaceful.

Somehow, her overwhelming exhaustion was relaxing.

A few moments after she rested her head against the back rim of the bath, Olivia drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Day 4: Olivia's Apartment: 10:20 PM.**

Rafael was never a patient man, but now he had to consciously fight the urge to check if she was okay. A mere twenty minutes ago, Olivia sat between his legs on the bedroom floor, sobbing. The space between his arm now felt empty, almost comfortably so, and he held the throw pillow in his lap to fill the gap.

Just like Olivia, he could feel the reality of her horrid situation sink in.

If Tess didn't come forward, then Joe wouldn't be convicted of a sex crime. He'd never go to prison for rape. And if he did confess to the two rapes during his investigation, would Liv testify? Or would she willingly bear the burden of this secret for the rest of her life? Would she have the resolve to describe her assault in court? To tell her friends and coworkers how he violated her in the worst way?

Olivia was a strong woman, but certainly a proud and private one. Her position at SVU just made things worse, because she thought that she should have known better. Should have protected herself better. The cruel irony was not lost on either of them, but Olivia was hard on herself because of her experience for SVU, and hardly anyone could convince her otherwise.

The more Rafael thought about her assault, the more protective and defensive he got. His chest tightened with anger and his blood pumped faster than before, all in subconscious preparation to fight a man who wasn't even there.

He had to think of something else before things got out of hand.

Luckily, his phone rang just in time. The shrill ringing that emanated from the bedroom – he had strewn his phone aside when he got down on the floor to calm Olivia – snapped him from his dangerous thoughts.

* * *

"Olivia? Liv?" He cautiously knocked on the door. "Just checking to see if you are okay."

She reluctantly stirred, fighting against the heavy weights of her eyelids and the relaxing nature of the water that was now cold. "I'm okay."

Unaware that she had been sleeping, Rafael explained the disturbance. "That was my boss. We have to talk when you're done in there, Liv. No rush."

Olivia tried to rub the tiredness out of her eyes while she shook her muscles awake, but it was of little use. Since she rushed to get dried and dressed so that she could go to bed, the newly donned pajamas stuck a little to her damp skin.

After five minutes, Rafael watched her emerge from the bathroom and she motioned for him to join her in the bedroom while she finished her nighttime routine.

He idly stood by as she combed her hair and put it into a loose ponytail, unsure about what to do with himself.

Olivia sensed his unease and helped him out. "You were saying..."

Rafael swayed nervously, unsure if this was the appropriate time to approach the subject. "I'm prosecuting Utley's case." He let the news register for a moment before he continued. "In exchange, Burrel will be prosecuting Roxy and the brother."

Olivia tried not to think about Joe or anything about his case, so she explored the last half of his message. "Burrel?"

"He was the one that was going to prosecute originally. We made a deal, and he moved some things around for me."

Liv looked at the carpet, then at her hairbrush. She couldn't quite think of what to say as her mind was busy scrubbing itself clean of this subject.

Rafael sensed her uncomfortableness and was filled with a sense of guilt. "It's not too late to change things, I can-"

"No, that's not... it's better this way. I'm glad. I just... I can't think of this right now."

"There's one more thing." Rafael immediately felt ashamed for continuing this conversation, but he knew that Olivia would want to know. "Tess is coming to the precinct tomorrow to finalize her statement. Rollins thinks that it would be a good time for her to try and get Tess to come forward."

Oliva tried not to think about talking to Rollins again after what happened tonight, or the contents of her future discussion with the girl, but instead just created a steely resolve to hide her anxieties. "Then that's where I'll be."

He was already hesitant to push the matter, let alone try and argue this with Liv. After all, there was a better chance of Liv convincing the traumatized teenager. So, he simply asked her what she wants to do now.

She walked over to her bed and pulled back the cover. "Let's just go to bed. I know I've said it already, but I'm exhausted."

Olivia, of course, noticed her wording immediately. It was casual. Almost too casual, in fact, for the momentous leaps that they were taking in their relationship by lying in bed together. They had shared a bed the other nights too, though, and Olivia secretly hoped that phrasing it this way would encourage him to do it more often. After all, his presence was a soothing one.

After Rafael brushed his teeth and joined her in the bed, she was already half-asleep. Or so he thought. When he eyed her sweatshirt once more and grinned, she shot back a witty response that made him jump with surprise.

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "The Bee Movie is an animated atrocity, but the meme potential..."

Now that they were both prone, he turned on his side to face her. "You make memes?"

"No, but I have about a thousand saved on my phone."

Rafael saw that her eyes were closed and decided to let her rest with one last whisper. "I'm learning something new about you every day."

Olivia realized that they truly were learning new things about each other with every passing minute. She discovered the wonders of Cuban deserts, his favorite pair of pajamas, and the fact that he snored among many other invaluable tidbits of information that gave her insight into the mind of her best friend.

Rafael saw that her eyes were closed and figured that she had drifted off. After slightly maneuvering to set his watch's vibrating alarm to ring in three hours – an interesting theory of his that worked last night, as he had noticed Liv's nervous shaking before her nightmare had come to its full horrifying potential – he turned until he found a comfortable sleeping position.

"Goodnight, Liv."


	17. Talks with Fin and Tess

**How long is the average chapter in fanfiction? I feel like mine are pretty short. I want more conversations and in-depth analysis with/of Fin, so there will be more of that. And I'll fix this one to have a more natural progression, too (I was getting tired but was excited to post this).**

**Also, I think a decent section of next chapter will deal with the private aftermath of this and then discussing the next steps with Barba. If you think that Olivia might be a little OOC in the last section, you might be right. But, to be fair, I wouldn't be normal if I was in her situation.**

**More importantly, the two-part premiere with Liv and ELLIOT is on April 1st! Don't quote me on that, though, because I saw some headlines about more covid delays, so it might take longer. Don't get me wrong, their relationship was hella toxic at times and whatnot, but I have no other sources of excitement in my life so I'm going to take what I can get. Plus, just imagine the smut that's going to be written on April 2nd. Please update me if you have more accurate or recent information.**

**Anyway, I digress. I hope you like it!**

* * *

**Day 5: Olivia's Apartment, 8:32.**

Olivia's eyelids involuntarily scrunched further together as she wearily awoke, her entire body resisting her effort to start the day. Eventually, she managed to sit up, stretch, and rub the sleep out of her eyes.

Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around her midsection and lazily tried to get her back in a supine position. Instead of being scared at the surprise contact, Olivia only laughed as she watched Rafael's sleeping body try and move closer to her own. "Rafa. Rafa, wake up."

A guttural groan of complaint was the only response, which only made Olivia smile wider. She decided to let him rest for a little while longer, as long as he was willing to let her go. After one or two attempts, his relocated arm stayed put by his side and Olivia sat back against the headboard to take inventory of today's schedule.

First, the daily routine of breakfast for Noah. Second, Lucy is coming over to watch Noah for a couple of hours. Third, Olivia would try and talk to Tess before Joe's interrogation tomorrow. Then finally, she and Rafael would spend the rest of the day with Noah.

A small knock on the lower half of the bedroom door snapped her out of any negative thoughts regarding the talk with Tess. "Mommy!"

Olivia kept her voice moderately quiet, even though she surely knew the fate of Rafael's rest once Noah entered the room. "Come in, love."

The door opened as a tiny toddler sleepily padded into the room. This was one of her favorite moments with Noah; his little dinosaur pajamas, toddler clinginess, and little wobbly walk all made him the cutest thing on the planet.

With great effort, Noah managed to get up onto the bed, where he crawled on top of his mother's lap. He sat contently for a couple of peaceful moments but eventually twisted his body so that he could look at Olivia. Although having a toddler stand on your legs was awkward and a bit painful, she wouldn't trade this scene for the world. Luckily, he soon lazily collapsed against her chest and put his legs around her sides, which made for a much more comfortable position.

Olivia squeezed him tighter against her, taking in every ounce of goodness that her little boy resonated. Her son was always the one beacon that could relieve stress every time without fail. Whether it was his funny antics, his interesting and sometimes incorrect interpretations of the world, or just hugging his little body, everything about him brought a comforting wave of peace over her.

She saw Noah raise his head a little in her periphery, and his big brown eyes looking up at her only made him impossibly more adorable. Soon, though, a tiny little finger reached up to press against one of the bruises on her neck and Oliva squirmed with discomfort.

She gently shooed his little hand away and looked down to meet his eyes. "That hurt, Noah."

Noah leaned his head against her again, but still tilted his head up so that they could gaze at one another. "Green and yella?"

Olivia tried to let his innocent inquiry roll off her with little time to really think about it, but Noah noticing her bruises shot a line of heat through her chest. The boy had only seen her with makeup on recently – not much, just enough to cover her injuries beyond the inspection standard of a toddler – but he didn't seem upset, just curious. "They're bruises, Noah. Like when you ran into the corner of the coffee table a few days ago."

Noah sat back on her legs and clumsily lowered the zipper on his footie pajamas to reveal a barely-there light-yellow mark on his side. "Dis one hurt. I cry. You member?"

"I do remember." Olivia usually would have taken this as an opportunity to explain the color stages of bruises to her surely-captivated audience, but she wanted to direct the conversation far away from her assault. She helped him zipper his "dinosaurs" back up and pulled him closer again, smelling the strawberry scent of his freshly washed hair.

He finally noticed Rafael, and the following question was almost comical because his voice was the same volume but in whisper form. "Raffle be sleeping?"

"Yes, Rafael is sleeping." Olivia hoisted the boy closer and greatly exaggerated her words as she leaned in real close and whispered in a mischievous tone. "Would you like to wake him up?"

The excited toddler immediately sat up in her lap and quickly wiggled out of it. "Yes! I does!" He made quick work of maneuvering to Rafael's sleeping body and stood next to him on the bed.

The softness of the comforters made it hard for him to stand straight and balanced, so Olivia put a hand on his back to steady him.

Noah looked at his mother, grinning ear to ear, and loudly whispered once more. "One, two, thfree!" At the end of the countdown, Noah jumped and flung his body so that it landed perpendicular to Rafael's stomach.

Now deciding that the shock value was spent, Noah continued with his mission as he bounced, shook, and yelled Rafael awake. "Raffle! Raffle! Got wake up now! Gotta wake up!"

Olivia couldn't help but laugh as Rafael's resistance sharply juxtaposed Noah's insistence and absolute joy at the opportunity to wake the groaning man up. She was unsure as to why exactly this was so fun and exciting to him but took welcome pleasure in his joy.

Eventually, Rafael came to his senses and realized what was happening. Unbeknownst to Noah, Rafael rolled over and made eye contact with Olivia, trying not to smile. When the time was right, he shot up to surprise Noah and captured the boy in his arms, putting him in his lap and shaking him lightly as the older man dramatically pretended to be aggravated by the boy's antics.

Rafael began to tickle him mercilessly while keeping up with the faux-anger act that made Noah giggle. "Conejito! Why are you waking me up?"

This only made Noah laugh louder with mischief.

When they had all calmed down enough to catch their breath, Noah breathing the heaviest, Olivia struggled to get her son to part with Rafael but managed to place him in between both of their bodies. Now, both adults rested their backs against the headboard as Noah contently lie on his back between them.

Still on his back, the toddler looked up at his mother without moving his head. "What we doin' today?"

Figuring that he only needed an answer that applied to him, Olivia kept it vague and cut out any important information regarding her venture to the precinct. "Rafa and I are going to work for a bit, and Lucy is going to come watch you."

Noah pouted at the news that his best friends were going to be departing so soon, especially after more than half a week of unlimited access.

Even his pouting face was adorable to Olivia and she glanced over at Rafael to give a knowing look, which he reciprocated. "It will only be a couple of hours, love. I promise."

"Pomise? Money-back gurruntee?"

"Yes, I promise. And a money-back guarantee." Olivia turned her head to face her best friend across the bed and grinned. "I don't know why he likes infomercials, but he does. I don't even think that he knows what they mean. It takes the promise of a life-time warranty and free-shipping to get him to daycare sometimes. He's the only toddler I know that wants Oxyclean for Christmas alongside his Paw Patrol toys."

Hearing the name of his favorite commercial product, Noah chimed in with a familiar slogan. "Oxyclean gets da tough stains out!"

Rafael chuckled and made sure that he faced Olivia so that they could share their humor at his odd hobby together. "He's probably going to be one of those people that like the Superbowl commercials."

Olivia turned to watch Noah again as he regurgitated infomercial script in poorly memorized toddler babble. "We'll see."

They all sat in bed for another half-hour, mostly talking, playing, and watching Noah's favorite YouTube videos before reluctantly deciding that it was time to start the day.

* * *

**Day 5: Rafael's Car, 10:30.**

The jovial beginning of the day was starting to fade as Olivia and Rafael rode to the precinct. The car shook slightly as it slowly trudged forward in New York City traffic, and the ambient movement was peaceful. Still, though, they were both uneasy.

Even though he was driving – Olivia didn't care to drive for multiple reasons – Rafael took a couple of moments to gauge her feelings. He eventually decided to reach out, and wisely phrased the question in a way that didn't allow Olivia to deny her anxiety. "It's okay to be nervous. What's bothering you the most?"

It sounded a little unnatural to her, as if he had carefully planned the question like a shrink. Nevertheless, she was grateful for his help and answered honestly. "I... A lot is riding on my ability to convince her to come forward... and I know it's half my job usually but... there is so much at stake for me..."

The observant part of him knew that Olivia wanted a plan, not necessarily direct emotional comfort that only made her feel more vulnerable. "Maybe we can cut a deal."

He was met with a confused look. Tess was in no way a perp in this situation, unless he was referring to Joe. But why...?

"I meant that Tess and I can make an arrangement about adding a rape charge. She comes forward but doesn't testify. If it doesn't go to trial, he goes away with a rape charge on top of everything else. If it does go to trial, you'll testify that Joe took her to the bedroom and you heard the rape, so she doesn't have to. That alone wouldn't be enough, but I'm going to try and convince Burrel to get Roxy to plead to accomplice to rape. That would automatically implicate Joe, especially if Roxy flips. If Tess comes forward, either way we'd be covered for the rape charge."

Olivia took more than a couple of seconds to take it all in. She was ineffably relieved that there was a plan and touched that Rafael had thought it out so well. "You've really thought about this, huh?"

Rafael stared at the road ahead of him. "All night."

That would explain his tiredness this morning. Olivia felt a little guilty for burdening him with this task, but there is no lawyer she would trust more.

"This isn't going to be like last time, Liv." He didn't bother to look at his passenger, he knew that she was confused, so he explained with a steely resolve. "I'm going to get him. On every charge. Every single one."

The meaning of his words shook Olivia to her core as memories of the Lewis verdict came back. But more importantly, the full of his guilt finally registered. "It wasn't your fault," she began sincerely, "It wasn't. There was nothing that you could have done. If anything, I held back so much... So many details that you needed... I left out a few charges that could have been brought against him..."

Rafael did not expect to stress her out like this and quickly recovered. "It's okay, Liv. But you should know that I have every intention of making Joe wish he was dead."

His merciless lawyer demeanor returned once more, only to soften again when he saw that Olivia was still trying to hide her anxiety by fidgeting.

"What is it?"

"What if Tess doesn't admit to...it. What then?"

"Her original statement, and her denial, goes into the case file. We'd have to rely on Joe's or Roxy's admission, but I don't even know if they're cooperating. Fin wasn't able to get her to talk the other day..." Rafael caught himself catastrophizing, and only stopped this familiar trend because it might upset Olivia. "But I don't think we should think about this until it happens."

To be perfectly honest, Rafael was so eager to change the subject because he hadn't quite figured out how he would prosecute the rape if Tess doesn't come forward, if Roxy doesn't flip, or Joe doesn't confess. He was going to have to find a way to gain ground on at least one of those fronts if he had any shot.

Olivia didn't notice his worried expression, as she was too busy observing the advertisement on the truck in the next lane. "There's something else, too... Amanda and Carisi... they know what happened, they were there..."

"They're just concerned, they won't say anything to anyone. If-"

"Not to mention the fact that I have no clue what I'm going to say to Tess." Olivia barely heard his assurances, let alone know that she cut him off. She shook her head in disapproval of her lack of preparation. "I suppose I do know, from working at SVU. But I haven't really... I didn't want to think about it... I don't think that Tess understands how important this is to me... And I'm not even sure that I should be putting this burden all on her. She's only a teenager. We are both just passing the buck..."

Rafael let her ramble on this tangent for a few more moments, but she quieted as they approached the familiar building. Even just talking about this subject in the same zip code as the precinct was unthinkable.

As Rafael slowed down and backed into her assigned parking spot, Olivia braced herself for the barrage of reality that was about to invade her already weakened defenses.

 _Fuck_.

* * *

**Day 5: 16th Precinct, 11:06.**

Olivia and Rafael walked in with their emotional armor fully donned. Olivia decided to wear her signature outfit, a black blazer and matching pants, as a comforting security blanket of sorts. For some reason, this outfit was familiar in a way that gave her a sense of confidence. Rafael, too, was employing all the defenses he could manage. Although he was not dressed in his typical suit and silk tie, his confident walk and his cutthroat professional attitude was the neon coloring that told any predators "don't fuck with me".

Still, their facades were hard to maintain. One of the denser beat cops had asked Liv where she had been, only for his more situationally aware partner to sharply yank him back with an apologetic glance. She paused to exterminate her internal conspiracies and paranoia of gossip, braced herself, and continued walking towards the squad room.

Although there was a significant sense of guilt when she ignored Rollins and Carisi – who were at their desks and only noticed her presence when she brushed past them acknowledgement – she wanted to shorten this walk of shame. Lindstrom would balk at the use of that phrase, but it certainly felt like one.

Now, Rafael and Olivia were alone with Fin in her office. Rafael made an extra note to shut the door and lock it behind him, but Fin already had the foresight to close the blinds.

Fin, ever the emotional diplomat, didn't immediately address the issue but made sure that she wouldn't have to be the one to bring it up. "Hey, Liv." He crossed the room and motioned to the mirror. "Tess is in there. She just arrived a couple of minutes ago. I barely managed to convince her mother to leave her alone in there, but she'll be out of the way for a bit."

Olivia nodded in his direction as she tried to formulate a plan. Finally, she came up with one that satisfied the needs of her original mission while also allowing her to talk with Fin.

She turned to Barba. "Can you go in there and explain your... arrangement? I'll join you in a moment."

Rafael, wisely understanding her intentions, took one of the two pre-copied case files from off her desk and unthreateningly entered the room.

Olivia dialed down the knob attached to the interview room so that their sensitive conversation would not be interrupted by Barba's explanation to Tess, who was about to sign the confirmation paper for her original statement. Once that paper was processed, it would always show that Tess denied her rape at first even if she decided to change her mind later.

Liv sat down on the couch, the cushions slightly deflating under her weight, as she made eye contact with Fin. "I've heard that you disappeared for a little while yesterday."

"Ah, Amanda told you." He saw Olivia wondering how he knew, so he continued. "She called me a bunch of times, so I figured it must have been her."

"Mind telling me what happened?"

Fin, who was previously sitting on the corner of the desk, slowly joined her on the other end of the gray couch. He paused to formulate his explanation but was still unsure that his words could properly express his thoughts. "I, uh... just needed a little break from SVU."

Now with her hands resting on her knees, Olivia continued to look at him, unsure if she should leave it be or press him to continue.

Luckily, Fin needed to feel the cathartic release of getting this off his chest. "This case was so... sudden. We didn't even know that he existed until Lucy got that text. Everything happened so quickly..."

Olivia had a feeling about where this was headed. After all, they were closer than most siblings, even though there was an unspoken understanding about respecting each other's boundaries. "No matter what you are thinking right now, and I have a couple of guesses, I need you to know that it is not your fault."

Fin shifted – these emotional conversations did not come easily for either of them – and tried to find the right words. "Well... Munch, Stabler, Cap, and I... we protected you. Now they're all gone. Everything that happens to you is on me now, or at least that's what it feels like."

"Fin-"

"Don't even try to tell me otherwise, Liv. I appreciate it, I do. And I know that you aren't holding it against me, but..." The older man turned his head to avoid looking at her. "Stabler would beat my ass if he found out that I didn't do anything. Hell, I almost wish he were here right now. He'd kick Joe's fucking skull in."

She gave him a moment to calm down before she responded. "Well... he's not here. I don't know whether that's a good thing or not... it doesn't matter. There wasn't exactly anything you could do." Olivia moved closer and put her hand on his, squeezing it for comfort. "Intervening would have only made it worse."

He looked away again, and silence permeated the space for minutes before he spoke again. "I beat myself up for years after... Sealview," he sharply avoided the name and put his head in his hands, "But I found some comfort in the fact that I did something. I tried my best. I stopped him before... that happened. But this time... I stood there. Silently. I did nothing."

Olivia fully understood how rare it was for Fin to openly display his thoughts like this, much less verbally explain them. Instead of refuting them with assurances, Olivia decided to validate them in hopes that Fin wouldn't go too far back into his shell. Besides, sometimes people just wanted to have their problems acknowledged rather than solved for them.

"I'm so sorry that you feel like this, Fin. I am." She moved her body closer and leaned her head on his shoulder. "But at least we still have each other."

"Always, Liv." He guided both their bodies until they were resting against the back of the couch, her head still resting on him in a way that brought about an unexpected sense of peace. "Always."

They sat like that for a few minutes, recharging their emotional batteries and, in Fin's case, reconstructing mental walls. A knock on the door interrupted their peace.

Barba quickly entered the room, visibly frustrated.

"Tess isn't coming forward. She's adamant. Maybe you should give it your shot now before she signs the papers."

Olivia sighed, disappointed – she knew it couldn't be this easy but held out hope that she would be given a break – and gave one last understanding look to Fin.

He understood instantly and opened the door for her. "I'll be here when you're done."

* * *

**Day 5: Interview Room, 11:28.**

Olivia entered the well-lit room with a careful sense of purpose – she clearly had a mission but still kept in mind that both of them were in very sensitive situations – and sat down at the end of the table nearest to the door. Since Tess was sitting to the seat on the right of the other end, Olivia figured that her position was close enough to emotionally connect but far away enough to not be threatening.

Tess, who must have previously spun in the chair because it faced the other direction, had her back to the new visitor as she started to fiddle with the lock screen on her phone to appear busy. She did this in the hallways after school sometimes, to avoid awkward interactions with passing teachers, but the exigence was much higher this time. She was done talking.

The oddly passionate stranger from just before, who was probably a lawyer but he forgot to actually introduce himself, had laid out the file on the desk in front of her and carefully explained the situation in simplistic terms. Still, it was all gibberish to her. The man stopped to clarify, explain, and confirm her understanding, but she just couldn't wrap her head around any of it. It was like when trying to read her history homework; she read and heard the words but they never seemed to internalize beyond the surface level of being able to regurgitate the information without true understanding.

Now, according to the gentle footsteps and the creaking chair, he had returned. Tess did not hesitate to make her disapproval clear and audibly sighed while refusing to acknowledge his presence. Since the townhouse, she had been much more vocal and persistent with her desires, dislikes, and needs, never stopping until she got what she wanted. This was particularly odd for a girl who was usually soft and timid, but Tess couldn't help it. She felt guilty for overcompensating for her inability to protest in the townhouse, but having her "no's" go unacknowledged – even over something basic – felt all too familiar in a sickening way.

Tess finally got tired of waiting for him to leave and spun in her chair to face her visitor. "Can I sign the statement now? I want to go ho-"

The words died on her lips as she saw who it actually was.

Olivia registered the girl's shock but figured that her presence reminded Tess about the incident only five days earlier. "I'm just here to-"

"I'm sorry." Tess blurted out her apology before she could stop herself. "I'm so sorry."

"Wha-"

Tears began to well in her eyes. "I should have crashed the car. Or... or called someone. I should have... I could have hit him." Tess haphazardly placed her phone down on the table and motioned with her arms to emphasize her point. "But I just kept driving..."

Olivia suddenly understood what the teenager was apologizing for with a guilty fervor. "Oh, Tess..." She semi-cautiously approached the girl and quickly sat down in the chair next to hers. "You couldn't have done anything."

Tess leaned forward, crying but not hysterically, and apologized again. "But I could have and we both know it. I could have fought him for you like I did in the... in the bedroom..." A new round of tears burst forth.

Taking Tess's lean into her as an invitation for physical contact, Olivia took both of her hands in hers. "Tess, look at me."

Luckily, the teenager wasn't hysterical or shaking. Her tears were of a quieter kind, which made it much easier to soothe them away.

"Look at me. Please."

When Tess finally raised her head, she freed one of her hands to wipe the warm tears from her eyes and used the other to squeeze Olivia's comforting ones.

Olivia, possibly unwisely, decided to take a massive Lindstrom-esque risk. "Do you blame me for what happened in the bedroom?" After she said it, she almost physically cringed and prayed that this would work.

Tess also cringed, but her reaction was due to the reminder of last week's events. She was reminded of when she fought, and when she didn't. Every night she had replayed every aspect of the hostage situation, wondering what she could have done. What she should have done.

Still, she answered quickly, although her voice was clogged with the strain of crying. "Of course not. You couldn't do anything."

Olivia held her hands tighter but still managed to keep the embrace gentle while she fought to keep eye contact. "Neither could you."

Both women – Tess has been involuntarily promoted from girlhood, much too early for modern standards – felt the comparison sink in. Although they both silently understood that Tess did, in fact, have an opportunity to derail Joe's plans when he put the gun down, Olivia placed no blame on the fifteen-year-old who was catatonic with fear. There was no guarantee that her hypothetical actions would have actually worked, anyway.

Tess eventually calmed, bit by bit, and eventually sat back in her chair. She looked over as if to say "Are you sure you don't blame me?", which was countered with an affirmative nod from the older woman. The guilt was dissipating, but it was certainly still there.

They sat like that – Olivia holding one of Tess's hands while they sat in close proximity – for many moments longer.

However, the sharp contrast of the white paper on the brown table shocked Olivia back into remembering her goals. She waited a few seconds until the time was right, and then carefully approached the subject. "Tess, there is something that I need from you."

Olivia reached out to pull the paper closer with her right hand, sliding it across the table with ambient shuffling noise.

Tess understood immediately, and her attitude changed instantly.

"I'm not changing it."

"Tess-"

The fear of testifying filled the impressionable child with irrational self-preservation. She was fiercely protective of her denial. "I'm not. I won't."

Olivia continued, pretending as if she was never interrupted. "Tess, if you don't come forward, there is a chance that Joe won't be convicted of a sex crime." Olivia paused briefly to let the news sink in. "He might not be convicted of rape."

Still, Tess only grasped the concept on a surface level. She felt as if Joe's imprisonment would be enough and didn't quite understand why Olivia was so hellbent on this when it didn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things. "He's going to jail anyway."

"Trust me on this, Tess. I've been doing this for a long time. You're going to want closure."

At this point, Tess was beginning to say anything to get out of testifying. Anything to get out of confirming her mother's suspicions. "I'll be fine."

It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the irony, so Olivia redirected and tried another Lindstrom comparison tactic. "Do you know what that just was? When that guilt, those awful feelings, left you when I told you that it wasn't your fault? That's closure. That's healing. Now, you're going to get that on a grander scale. You-"

"I said I'm fine. I'm going to be."

Olivia continued unfazed, this time with a little more emphasis. She only hoped her improvised metaphor would land. "I know a thing or two about living when a terrible chapter of your life is perpetually open. The author isn't writing, but you can't turn the page. You're stuck. For what seems like forever. And it is so hard, Tess, to move on. To find the energy to keep writing. To keep fighting to move forward."

The gravity of Olivia's words was beginning to register, and the possibility of coming forward flickered across her mind for only a second before the overwhelming number of downsides outweighed her short-sighted vision of the benefits. She looked down, almost ashamed to be denying what she knew to be Olivia's way of finding this oasis for herself. "I can get closure in other ways."

"I have no doubt. And the trial, the conviction, the sentencing... I'm not trying to deceive you. It won't magically end your pain, and it sure won't be easy. It'll still be a hard road to healing. But without this... healing takes longer. This chapter of your life will stay open. And you'll reread it every day when a man walks to close too you on the street. Every night when you postpone sleeping out of a secret fear of your horrifyingly vivid nightmares. Testifying won't magically solve that either, but you'll have the peace of mind knowing tha-"

Tess was sure that there was more to this speech, but she needed to cut Olivia off before things got to be too much. "You're trying to scare me." Her small body was suddenly filled with resolve. "And it's not going to work."

Secretly, though, it was working. Very much.

Olivia was filled with shame, even though that was never her intention. Maybe some part of her, deep down, was desperate to achieve her ends, but this certainly was never an option that she would consciously choose. "No, Tess, I wasn't-… I wasn't trying to scare you. I was talking about my own experiences." She slowed down her pacing to make eye contact with the teen. "I only described those things because you deserve so much more than that. So much more. I really wasn't trying to scare you, and I'm so sorry if it came out that way."

Tess reflected on the apology and eventually understood that Olivia's tactics were becoming more desperate as her chances of success got bleaker. Still, Tess had to deflect. She had to get away from this topic, these thoughts. It was becoming too much right now. "Not everybody is the same. And your lawyer guy was already in here. He explained everything to me." Tess tried to remember what he said, but it was a struggle. "He said that you guys could still trick him into confessing, and the red-head too. It would be a risk, he said, but I think it's worth a shot. It's better than this."

"Did Rafael say that it was a good gamble?" Rule one of lawyering was to never ask a question that you didn't know the answer to. Luckily, Olivia wouldn't have been that bad of a lawyer.

Tess was being backed into a corner, at least in terms of her argument's logical-ness. "No..."

"I know that it's a tempting risk, but is it one that you are willing to take?" Olivia sat down again, her shoulders slacking as her head fell into her hands and then rose again. "Please, understand what I'm saying. I'm trying to help yo-"

Tess spun to face Olivia and stomped over to her sitting counterpart. "Do you think I don't know what you're doing?" Her previous resigned sadness was converted into outrage, mostly out of a protective defense of her emotions and a sudden state of self-preservation. "If I testify, you don't have to. That's all this is about. You want closure. You want him to be charged with rape. You are the one that should come forward if you care so much."

That one hurt. A lot. But Olivia, who always rolled with the punches, decided to let it roll off her like water on a duck's back. She'd have to deal with it later, surely, but right now Olivia was able to regroup. Her voice betrayed her, though, as it cracked. As much as she'd like to pretend that it didn't sink in – she actually imagined a protective bubble as a therapy exercise against unwelcome criticism – each comment wore down her façade more than the last.

"Please..."

"I'm sixteen. My birthday was two days ago, and I spent my sweet sixteen wondering when the soreness between my legs would go away!" Her eyes met the window once more and her voice fell. "I'm only a teenager. I can't do this. I can't."

Olivia was filled with guilt. She knew that she didn't have the moral high-ground, but found peace in the fact that a large portion of her intentions were to help Tess regardless of her own interest. Even if Olivia wasn't involved in this case at all, this conversation would still likely be happening anyway. Half her job at SVU was giving victims the courage and support needed to come forward, get the kit, and testify. This mental reminder of her normal duties was somehow comforting and alleviated some of the suffocating guilt.

"I can help you. I want to help. You're right, part of this is about me. About my healing. But I don't put the needs of victims ahead of my own, and I only support my plan because I know that it'll help you too."

"Aren't you listening to me?" Tess felt the defensive words fall out from her lips like an uncontrollable waterfall. Still, her fragile denial of both the rape and the need to come forward took control. "I have help. I have a plan. It's not my fault that you don't."

Olivia's voice trembled and quivered, but she hadn't reached the limits of her no-begging policy quite yet. "I'm just trying to help."

Feeling guilty about her previous comment, especially as Olivia's voice broke, Tess tried to support her claims through a gentler elaboration. Her voice calmed down greatly, and the body posture of both women relaxed slightly. "My mom got me a therapist, and I'm going to join a support group for girls my age. I have all the healing support that I need right now, and testifying is only going to bring back memories that I'm trying to get over."

"I am so glad that you have a support system. I'm only trying to help." Olivia kept eye contact to punctuate her point. "You're in denial, and that's okay right now. I understand. But Tess-"

"I'm not just in denial..." Her cracked-manicure stood out on the black-and-white color scheme of the statement confirmation form, which she sloppily and haphazardly signed. "I'm done."


End file.
